Memoirs Of A Sports Counsellor
by Fyrshi
Summary: Bored with his life and wishing to settle down at a respectable job, a man becomes a sports counsellor and gains a month-long internship that he thinks will be a breeze... until he meets the basketballers that he's supposedly psychoanalyzing [Slight AU; Contains unnamed OC; Rated T for mild coarse language and mature (?) themes]
1. Myself

**_A/N: _**_I'm not quite sure as to how I should describe this fanfic... all I know is that it was created from a 'what if' moment (specifically, 'what if we psychoanalyzed all the KnB characters?') and that it functions both as a collection of one-shots and a loosely-linked chaptered story. It was also a plotbunny that refused to leave me alone even when I attempted to dismiss it, but I decided to write it down anyway... on the condition that I will be updating this in a highly infrequent manner.  
This is my first attempt at writing in first-person and breaking the proverbial fourth dimension, so I apologize if it's not entertaining at all, or if it's just plain weird- please do tell me if there's any problems with it, because that would be greatly appreciated. Just before we go on with the story, though, I shall place this disclaimer and warning up... but anyhow, please enjoy it and R&R if possible~  
_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own KnB or any of the characters; the only thing I own is the story idea (which I'm quite sure someone must've done before me...)**  
**WARNING: **Since I don't know what a sports counsellor is like, nor the details of various medical conditions or whatnot, this fanfic might (will) be factually inaccurate...

* * *

**Patient Zero: Myself**

I'm not sure how I landed the highly boring job of a sports counsellor, but I guess I can't complain. I mean, I could be doing a whole host of other boring jobs, like wiping down tables at a food court or staring blankly out a window behind a polished table, but here I am instead. I suppose I could do better- after all, there was a time when I was enrolled in a six-year course as a medical specialist- but I guess my life issues got in the way.

Hence my boring old ramble in this college-provided notebook.

Yes, that's right; this is all going to be read by someone later on as part of my course requirements… though I hardly understand why someone would go through the trouble of reading my thoughts.

Oh, that reminds me; I should say that, despite being dressed like a professional sports counsellor and pretending to have all the qualifications of one, I still feel a little confused- which should be expected, really, since I'm in an internship and all. Why my college makes me get on-the-job experience for an indefinite amount of time until my eventual graduation beats me, but it was something to do with 'assessing the practical application of your skills over the past few years' or something like that- I was too busy doodling to care much. In any case, after that lesson, I arrived at my lecture hall in preparation for class, but there was no class awaiting me, which was a bit of a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because theory classes were really, really drop-dead boring, and a curse, because I got a thick wad of paper that were my processing papers for my internship.

After being briefed to the point of tears and being bored to death for the next few hours, they finally saw through my detachedly polite appearance and figured that I had no interest in them. Knowing that I was one of the most troublesome students in the department (and, funnily enough, one of the naturally talented ones too), they waved me away and sent me immediately to my pseudo-job, which saved me quite a few more hours of monotony. They also handed me this notebook, telling me to write down 'one's candid thoughts' and 'one's experiences in the duration of the internship', and so here I am, wasting the hour before my so-called 'clinic' opens on writing my thoughts.

Even though I'll probably never read this again, I felt like writing it to address someone, because it felt more natural, so to you, the reader, this here is just a precursor of my thoughts before the whole job-internship-whatever begins. Perhaps I'll change after meeting my patients throughout the month, and perhaps I'll just stay the same old cynical bastard that I know I currently am. Maybe I'll fail and have to re-take another course, just like I've been doing for the past god-know-how-many-years, or maybe I'll actually enjoy myself, get this job, and live a merry life. Who knows?

What is certain, though, is that I've nearly run out of time. My first patient is due in soon, and I've got to prepare for him… not that I know how, seeing as I tuned out through my whole briefing period. But hey, I guess I'll survive to tell the tale.

After all, how hard can it be to listen to the problems of a few basketball kids?


	2. Kuroko Tetsuya

_**A/N: **I should mention that all the counsellor's thoughts, so the things in his 'college notebook', will be written in normal text, while his flashbacks on his meetings with his patients will be written in italics. I apologize for the rambling nature of this story and the slight OOCness of Kuroko (because, really, I don't quite know how to describe him- he's an elusive kid) and... I should also say that this will be irregularly updated, since I have my horrible offline life to deal with as well as another fanfic that I'm currently working on. But please, do keep reading~_

* * *

**Patient One: Kuroko Tetsuya**

One of the tips a counsellor is given when they have to meet with their patient is something along the lines of 'try to look busy', and though I really, really don't understand how or why it supposedly works, I did that anyway. Well, hey, I was ever so slightly nervous, and I didn't want to look like I'd been on the edge of my seat when I invite my very first patient in- after all, I'm supposed to be the person providing comfort, not the person _needing_ the comfort- so I did just that. But really, it's harder than you think to appear busy, because what can a person do with a practically-empty table? Nothing much, really; nothing much at all…

Unfortunately, I'd somehow managed to make myself appear busy when my person came in…

* * *

_After placing that journal away, I'd rummaged around until I found a sheaf of important-looking paper lurking around the bottom drawer of my table, and it didn't take too much effort to arrange it so it looked as if they were important documents or whatever- not that the patient would care, really. With a heavy sigh, I took up a paper to peruse its contents, seeing as I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, and I was just about ready to understand what it was saying when I was disturbed. Actually, disturbed isn't the right word. Startled to the point of near-death was the right word._

"…_Excuse me, how long must I wait until you're done?"_

_Mentally, I had collapsed on the floor, dead from extreme shock at the notion that my patient had been here, for god knows how long, and I didn't even notice until he spoke up. Physically, though, I set down my paper slowly and glanced upwards into the disconcertingly sky-blue eyes of my first ever patient, a strangely impassive bluenette dressed in the Seirin High sports jacket. Well, it wasn't as if he was talking to me, and it wasn't as if I suddenly wanted to talk to him, so we stayed in our quiet staring competition for a while, content to examine one another at our own leisure…_

* * *

Needless to say, my initial thoughts about the boy, Kuroko Tetsuya, was nothing short of negative- I mean, what else was I supposed to think about someone who could just scare the bejesus out of someone without even so much as batting an eyelid? Well, I had read in his brief report that he was a highly emotionless person, but I hadn't really thought that his lack of expression would border on something akin to sociopathy.

As an impassive person myself, I had expected something to replace the supposed lack of sentiment that deadpan people like me had- in my case, it was extreme boredom- but this person seemed to have… nothing. There was no coldness (one of the main traits that poker-faced people had), there was no disinterest (which was the second-most common peculiarity), heck, there wasn't even a discernible spark of _life_ in this guy. So the fact that he was already displaying disturbingly detached tendencies, as well as his complete lack of presence, was something that piqued my professional interest… and scared me to my very core.

Now, his report had been quite unspecific and brief, if a measly few bullet points down a page constituted as a report of any sort. He was, according to the media, the famed 'phantom sixth man' of some legendary basketball team known as 'The Generation of Miracles', but from what I could see, he was just some kid with an inability to express emotions. As a person who did not bother judging others based on gossip or second-hand data (which, in Kuroko's case, was basically non-existent… interestingly enough), all I had to formulate a first impression of him was my senses, and boy, did I not like what I was sensing from this individual.

Then again, my job is not a pleasant one, and besides, I'm quite sure the aim of this notebook is to document my meetings with my patients and not my thoughts or feelings towards them, so let us move on before I ramble for too long…

* * *

_Highly unsatisfied with my attempts to gauge the boy's emotions, I broke eye contact with a harmless clearing of my throat, and glanced down at the aimless spread of paper before me. When I had finished tidying up the stuff I'd been pretending to be absorbed in, I had glanced up to look at my patient… but instead of seeing a boy with weird light-blue eyes, I saw a dog with weird light-blue eyes. Either I was hallucinating, or this clearly was a bad day for me._

_Rubbing my eyes and looking back up again, I understood my own confusion as soon as I saw the boy pull back the dog from my now-empty table. The shape, colour and even the odd thoughtlessness behind their eyes… clearly, the dog and the boy were just spitting images of each other, except they were a different species (heck, their lack of presence was shared too). As if sensing the confusion swirling around in my mind, the smaller male picked up his Siberian Husky and murmured:_

"_This is #2, my pet dog… he decided to tag along so I brought him to my counselling session"_

_Composing myself for the time being and reminding myself of the fact that pets were supposed to be fine in a clinic (even if I had allergies, I couldn't just kick out the dog- I didn't have the heart to, with the oddly plaintive look that I could suddenly detect in its eyes), I leant back in my seat as if I wasn't attempting to distance myself from the dog and its wacky owner, before I quietly replied:_

"_Whatever's fine, so long as you don't let him go wild in here… but moving on, you know why you're here, yes? I'm assuming your sporting manager or coach informed you of your reasons for being here"_

"…_I was told it was a trial program for selected members of basketball teams, for the purposes of examining our mental psyche"_

* * *

Trial program? Mental psyche examination? Now _that_ had been new to my ears. Clearly, I had not been told about this before my 'internship' or whatever- which I'm starting to suspect is just some sort of set-up that my lecturer concocted for the specific purposes of torturing me. I was supposed to be some lackey that was observing some other professional strip some unfortunate person bare of their thoughts, but here I was, having to do the troublesome task myself. Nope, I just had to be that lucky person who experienced everything first-hand, the harsh way, and there was nothing I could do about it, except soldier on.

Damn whoever forced me into this position to hell and back…

* * *

"…_Ah, well, I guess whoever told you-"_

"_My coach, Aida Riko"_

"_Right, so your coach is correct in that sense, I suppose…"_

"_You're not a good counsellor, are you?"_

"_Excuse me?!"_

"_You're nervous, you're clearly improvising on the spot, and you don't even seem to know what you're doing at this point. Ah, I really should've just gone to class like Kagami told me to…"_

_Not only was this boy creepily deadpan, but he was disconcertingly straightforward. His flat tone, coupled with the slightly depressed look he gave me as he said this, was enough for my mental self to get out of the seat and storm out- sadly, though, I decided not to act upon that urge. Staying in my bored pose in the chair and sighing a little unamusedly, I attempted to change the topic. 'Attempted to' was the key phrase to note, by the way._

"_So… why did you sign up for this program in the first place?"_

"_I was told to, and I didn't have a choice- by the way, you're bad at dodging questions too"_

* * *

Most people would agree that counsellors were supposed to be the ones making others feel highly uncomfortable with their asking and delving, but at this point in time, I was just about ready to ask this guy to become the counsellor in my place. I had ignored that last bullet point about the purely-opinionated thought of 'described as a highly unsettling individual- advice is to tread lightly around him', but right about then, I was quite regretting that mental action. Being me, I had charged straight into my mannerism of going on my instincts based on first impressions, and despite repeated warning for me not to do that sort of thing, I ignored it.

So here I was, paying for my macho display of self-righteousness by being dragged around by this shrimp of a bluenette. I would document the rest of our wonderful little conversation, but I would basically be documenting my humiliating attempts to dodge his questions and my pathetic attempts to make him answer my own, so I shall just say that… the psychoanalysis was a failure. Who knew the job of a sports counsellor would be so hard to begin with? Here I was, thinking that I had landed a fairly easy job just about an hour ago… and I had been brutally proven wrong.

I suppose I should add that our meeting ended in a most.. interesting… manner of sorts…

* * *

_By the time an hour had passed, I felt as if this highly infuriating individual had learnt much more about me than I had ever let anyone learn about me… whereas I had learnt the most meagre of information from him. Apart from the fact that yes, he was pretty much a bad expresser of emotions, he was also a person of a rather apathetic nature at most times, but could be quite serious at other times (I had learnt this the hard way, sadly enough). There were other, much more uninteresting and irrelevant things that I learnt about him as well, like his obsession with vanilla milkshakes and his closeness to that Kagami person, but that was about it. He, on the other hand, read me like an open book, though I'm sure that I acted just as passive as he himself did._

_For a highly private person like me, this was embarrassing, to say the least. So by the time I was aware that our session was rapidly drawing to an end, I suppose it was only natural of me to let slip my relief at the end of the meeting- unluckily, though, the bluenette saw past my façade of boredom._

"_You're looking forward to dismissing me from your office, aren't you? Just like most people who stay with me for a long time, you just want me to disappear"_

"_Uh, no…"_

"_It's actually quite funny, seeing you trying to lie. You remind me of Kagami a lot"_

"_Not only do you delight in making fun of people, you also attempt to do this to possibly intimidate me too, don't you?"_

_I hadn't meant for that comment to slip out, but for a person like me who was bad at keeping my thoughts to myself, I was actually proud that I'd been able to keep my caustic comments to myself until then. Of course, this didn't mean that it was highly unprofessional of me, and the slight glint of amusement and surprise in the small male's eyes did nothing to allay my annoyance at myself. However, he mercifully chose not to comment on my rude insight and chose to scoop up that dog of his into his arms and stand up slowly._

_Casting me a look as he made his way to the door (without my permission, might I add- how rude could people get these days? Even I had a sense of manners during most occasions), Kuroko glanced back at me before _smirking_ slightly. While I internally raged at the boy standing at my door, I barely caught the faintly amused snort of laughter that he emitted before I heard:_

"_Good luck in your job then, counsellor… you'll probably need it"_

_And, leaving me to my fuming, he slipped out of my office and concluded the meeting on his own terms._

* * *

My first ever case as a sports counsellor… and I had failed miserably. Gone was the confidence I had previously harboured about an hour ago- was it really an hour? I wasn't even sure anymore- and, instead, I now felt a sense of crushing defeat. If all my patients were going to be like this boy, then how was I supposed to cope with the next 29 or so days? I still had a patient in the afternoon, for goodness sakes, and now that I thought about it, my schedule was pretty much anything from a free day of relaxation to a hectic day literally _filled_ with appointments. Or, well, that's what my examiner had said, though I'm quite sure I misheard since I was daydreaming at the time.

Anyway, there's a psychological report that I now need to write on him, but I really don't feel as if I could adequately fill it out right now. Really, what can I say when I know the scantest information about him? I barely even asked him about his supposedly sociopathic tendencies or his hidden quirks that might be of interest to a future sporting team, but there really was nothing that I could do. Okay, fine, I could've done better, but he was just a scary, scary child. My life…

Well, I'd better get started on that report before I forget what little I found out about Kuroko Tetsuya, so I guess I'll get straight into it then. Hopefully, though, I might get a better person than that unsettling bluenette. If I don't, I know what I'll be doing after today, and it won't be something pleasant. I'll probably just drink the night away or something…


	3. Kagami Taiga

_**A/N: **I probably should mention that I forgot to specify exactly when this psychoanalysis happens to the basketball players- to clear that up, I'll just say one thing: it's up to the reader's interpretations (because I never actually bothered to slot this into a time frame specified in the manga/anime). Also, I should also state that the characters interviewed won't just be limited to the GoM or the main characters- so long as I know them, I will probably do them (I will choose to leave some characters out, but if anyone wants me to psychoanalyze any particular characters, then just tell me and I'll see about it). As for the implied pairings, please excuse me for sticking them in... but I just couldn't help myself. Besides, it adds to the humour, doesn't it? Anyhow, I'll let you readers get back to reading then~_

* * *

**Patient Two: Kagami Taiga**

It was a highly unpleasant task that involved long periods of mental rage-fests and a few strong cups of instant coffee, but after my lunch-time had come and gone… I finally managed to write up a page's worth of information on my first patient. Yes, I know that sounds absolutely pathetic and if I had been better at my job in the first damn place, I could've done better, but who cared about the past? At least I did better than the unhelpful bugger that gave me about ten stupid dot points on the emotionless bluenette.

By the time I had finally eaten my lunch (sadly, all that there was left in the nearby cafeteria was a sorry-looking cheese sandwich, so I had to make do) I had about 10 minutes left before my next patient came in, so once again, I attempted to look busy. It was actually much easier this time, since I had found something of interest for me to read, but unfortunately, Lady Luck was just not on my side- if anything, I swear she was just laughing at me from wherever the heck she was.

Because seriously, what sort of guy gets near-death experiences more than once in a day?!

* * *

_Unlike my last patient (at the rate I was going, I _wish_ he was going to be my last patient), I had a little more information on the next person I was due to see. It was rather infuriating that half the stuff was written in American English, a language in which I was not particularly strong in, and it took quite a while to figure out what the squiggly bits of romaji-like characters were trying to say. When I had deciphered enough to tell that my next patient was a rash person with a permanently empty stomach (which was probably biased information, judging from the exaggerated language), I was rudely interrupted again._

_This time, though, the interruption didn't come from a soft voice, but from a loud crash of my door._

_As a person who grew up with the constant threat of an earthquake, I immediately thought that one of them was upon me again (of course, I'd conveniently forgotten that my office was designed to withstand rough earthquakes). Yelping in fright and diving under my table, I was surprised at the lack of tremors that were emitted from the floor, but before I could fully process this fact, a loud boom of laughter reached my ears. Finally realizing that the crash had been caused by man-made sources, and not by natural ones, I poked my head above my table… and came face-to-face with a pile of hamburgers on my table._

_If this was a mental re-enactment, I would've probably flipped my table, swore at the growing grease-stain spreading across my personal property, and stormed out. Unfortunately for me, though, my pride would not let me simply snap at my amused patient and so, with an irritated sigh, I clambered into my seat and gestured for my patient to sit with a flick of the hand…_

* * *

Now, I was lucky that those documents weren't really important, because if they had been, all that hamburger grease would've run through the pages and I would've had to dump them. Actually, if I had been just a tad lazier, I might've just left my first patient's report and my current patient's brief on the table and then I would be screwed beyond belief- because seriously, I _wasn't_ going to spend another harrowing number of hours writing about that nutty bluenette again. That didn't mean that I wasn't annoyed though- really, does this idiot know exactly how long it takes to get rid of oil stains?- and I'm sure that my barely-restrained temper must've shown because my attempt at being 'formal' was just complete bullshit. Well, not literally, of course- I didn't want more mess on my table…

* * *

_Still fuming about the mess on my table and the cocky grin that the tall redhead bastard had on, I didn't wait for him to sit down before I asked with a steady voice (which I'm not sure how I managed to conjure up, seeing as I was pretty much seeing red- not in a completely literal sense though):_

"_You do realize that this is not the cafeteria, yes…?"_

"_Hah? So what if it isn't? Are you telling me to get rid of my food? Because there's no way that I'm going to get rid of it, so deal with it, old man!"_

* * *

I have been told that I look a little mature for my age, but for goodness sakes, someone in their late 20s was _not_ an old man! So it's only pansies that get their knickers into a twist from insults about their age, but right now, I would _gladly_ turn into my crude description so I could just punch the idiot in front of me. Lunch had passed about, I don't know, an hour ago?! There was no reason to simply ignore that large 'NO FOOD OR DRINKS PAST THIS POINT' sign at the door (and yes, I'm going to defend my coffee and sandwiches from earlier as non-greasy and non-messy substances which would not cause massive pain-in-the-arse stains) and I was telling him as much, but no, the brainless dolt plonked that large pile of grease onto my table and then told me to 'deal with it'!

So I had said earlier that my first patient was troublesome, but this guy… this guy was just on a whole new playing field when it came to being a living reason for one's life to be unpleasant. Kuroko had been a straightforward little nuisance, but at least he had some sense of courtesy while he was speaking, but this Kagami Taiga person… oh no, not _only_ was he a straightforward annoyance, but he was larger than me (which is an affront to my pride, let me tell you) and he was brash too. I know that, normally, I am an impassively lazy person that wouldn't be bothered to swat a fly if it was begging me to, but I don't know whether it was the coffee, the stress or this bugger in front of me; at that time, all I wanted to do was to throw him bodily out of my office and tell him to never set foot in it again, not unless he went back to kindergarten.

Of course, I had underestimated the extent of my deadpan nature and my laziness…

* * *

_I couldn't help but notice the growing stain on my papers, the slight arrogance that the glutton in front of me seemed to possess, and the particles of half-chewed food that flew out of his mouth and onto my table. My mental self, at this point, was dead from asphyxiation caused by extreme fury, but my physical was (rather sadly) still in control- to the point where I merely sighed under my breath before I stared the rude patient straight into his eyes._

"_That's fine with me, if you're hungry, but you do realize that the table is getting stained and it will take me quite a while to clean up the mess you've accidentally or intentionally made…"_

_Surprisingly enough, the hungry male stopped chewing at my slightly disapproving tone of voice. Before I could get my head around the fact that his face had registered an expression a little too akin to… remorse or guilt, perhaps?… I was taken aback by the mumbled words that slipped out of the tall basketballer's mouth:_

"_Ah, what the hell, why didn't you tell me sooner? Sheesh, you're just like Kuroko with your blank face and your unreadable nature, 'cause people like that just annoy me to bits unless they say what they wanna say, y'know…"_

_Faintly exasperated and amused at his contrite tone of voice (as well as the disturbing comparison he just made between my first patient and myself- could this day get any worse?), I added 'surprise' to the list of emotions I was currently feeling when he suddenly picked up his burgers and dumped them into a plastic bag that'd materialized out of nowhere. Staying seated from partial shock as I watched him stand up, I heard him grunt disapprovingly to himself before he lifted up my stained sheets, dumped then onto the floor, and began to wipe down the table with a tissue that had magically appeared in his hands…_

* * *

It turns out that the foreign brief I had gotten on Seirin High's Ace had been totally wrong when it mentioned that he was a rude and insensitive idiot- despite his brash tone and his huffy attitude, he actually was quite nice underneath. Actually, his opposing nature made him seem quite cute, like the 'tsundere' characters that my manga-obsessed sister would prattle on about half the time (a tsundere, by the way, is supposed to be someone horrible on the outside and sweet on the inside- or that's what said sister explained). Of course, his shift in nature didn't make me want to forgive him for being so rude earlier, but at least it alleviated the quiet killing intent I had gotten due to his actions- not that I would act on them or anything, just saying.

Since the stain had settled into the polish of my elegant wooden table and a mere tissue was going to do nothing about the oily sheen on the furniture piece, we spent the next few minutes wiping down the table with cleaning agents and cloths, before I was satisfied with the glossy appearance that my table had been restored to. As soon as we were done, though, he went straight back to eating and spraying stuff all over the table while he was talking, so that was a bit of a waste of time- but at least he'd bothered to help.

I should probably mention that, by this time, the initial impression that I'd gotten about the hulking male had shifted from 'an annoying glutton with a brash nature' to 'a tsundere glutton'- not much of a step up, I must say, but at least he had risen a little higher in my rather lowly opinion of my mental patients so far. I would also mention that he was quite co-operative with the general questions that I asked about him, like his choice of hobbies and all that general stuff that I'm supposed to ask, but don't ask me to record it down- the report that I'll write up soon will probably explain it all anyway.

What I do want to mention, though, was the question I asked him in the scant minutes left before the end of my appointment with my second patient. It had something to do with the fact that I was curious about his relationship with the Kuroko kid- because, really, other than the lovey-dovey friends I had, nobody (and I mean nobody) talks about their counterpart so much. The reaction I got was particularly noteworthy… considering that, according to my information, he was a horrible liar…

* * *

_The half-eaten hamburger from his nearly-finished pile of food was just being lifted to his mouth when I had casually asked him:_

"_Just out of curiosity… why do you mention Kuroko Tetsuya so much?"_

_Mentally wincing at the mouthful of masticated meat that flew onto my speckled table (which I would _definitely_ need to clean later), the redhead spluttered indignantly before making an odd growling noise in the back of his throat. Watching his increasingly-flustered demeanour with a slight spark of curiosity, I was soon rewarded with an answer when the man blustered:_

"_W-What kinda question's that, huh?!"_

"_Oh… it was merely out of curiosity. And don't worry, this won't be recorded, if that's what you're worrying about…"_

_Of course, he didn't know that I was mentally recording down his amusing expressions and his agitated manner, but it wasn't as if he would figure out my deception anyway. Coolly waiting for a response as he failed to calm himself down, I was finally rewarded for my troubles when he muttered (a little reluctantly, it seemed):_

"_H-He promised to make me the best basketballer in Japan and I promised to let him help me, s-so we're like a sorta team, y'know? He's annoying as shit sometimes, but he kinda grows on you, sorta like a parasite- but it's not that bad, I swear! Other than the times he creeps up on you like he's some fricking ghost, or when he makes that expression like he's laughing at you somewhere deep inside him, he's a nice little guy with a great love of basketball…"_

_Well, now that was a surprising answer- if the hidden undertone of his more-than-friendly feelings and the slight reddening of his cheeks and ears were anything to go by. Inwardly smirking at the definitive tsundere characteristics this seemingly-ferocious teenager had, I nodded quietly at his answer and murmured my thanks, before I also mentioned that he was free to leave._

_Before he went, though, he turned back, with his scant hamburgers in hand, and threatened:_

"_If I find out that you've told Kuroko this… I swear I will murder you… understood?!"_

_And, leaving me to impassively stare back, he slammed the door shut and stomped off back to wherever he was supposed to be…_

* * *

So… not only did he harbour some interesting feelings to his smaller team-mate, but he also had some kind of unknown reason for not showing his affection- well, yea, there's the fact that it's unacceptable for the intolerant people that makes up the traditional neighbourhood, but it wasn't as if he'd be rejected or killed, if the bluenette's undertones were anything to go by. Well, my job was a sports counsellor and not cupid, so I'll leave it to them to figure out their problems (because I'm not meddlesome or motivated enough to interfere with my patients' lives) and do whatever they want. But I guess it was quite amusing to observe people… even if I got screwed over a lot because of it.

Well, as interesting as it is for me to speculate about other people like some old gossip, there's still that report that I have to fill out for this kid before I can actually end my first harrowing day as a sports counsellor in training. It'll be nice to actually get home before 6pm (which I don't get to do thanks to the all-day theory lectures that I used to sleep through) and maybe take myself up on that drinking offer just to celebrate the fact that I'm not dead yet.

I'm sure not looking forward to the next month or so, but at least I know that all my patients aren't as idiotic as I had hoped for them _not_ to be. So that's a relief… I guess. Though that doesn't mean that I'm off the hook just yet when it comes to this internship…

But now, if you'll just excuse me for a moment, I have a table to clean all over again...


	4. Kiyoshi Teppei

**Patient Three: Kiyoshi Teppei**

Thanks to the mess that had been scattered all over my table and floor, and the fact that the janitor was apparently 'too busy' to help, I ended up staying for two hours while I tried to get grease off the carpet and food particles off my table. By the time I got home, I wasn't even in the mood to go out drinking (besides, my drinking buddies were all drunk by the time I called them last night) so I ended up going to sleep early. Sadly for me, though, thoughts about my first two patients plagued my restless mind, so by the time I arrived at my temporary office at Seirin High, it was fairly obvious to anyone who looked my way that I was ready to drop down and snooze, regardless of the situation.

That was pretty much what I did when I got to my chair- as soon as I had dropped down onto its semi-hard surface, I was pretty much asleep. In hindsight, I should've checked my email earlier and read that statement that said that I had a break, but really, when one is on absolutely no sleep, it's hardly fair to think that they'd remember even the most basic of things. So, instead of staying home like I should have been doing, I was snoring away on the hard surface that was my table. Go figure.

Well, I only found out that I had no patients when I got home just about 5 minutes ago, but funnily enough, I did actually do a consultation session with some basketball kid, so I'm wondering whether my lecturer sent that as one of his ill-minded pranks- I mean, he's done it before. There was this time when I was sure there were no lectures, but I got an email from him saying that there was a remedial class… so I'd rocked up, only to find that there was nobody there. Bugger the bastard; it probably was a joke email then. But now that I think about it, the kid said something strange when he disturbed my slumber…

* * *

_As a fairly normal sleeper, I usually have no trouble staying asleep through soft noises, but for some odd reason, through the blackness that constituted my dreams, I heard an odd noise… almost as if it was a soft huff of amusement. Being a person who dislikes being laughed at (and being a little paranoid on top of that), my sleep-muddled mind instructed me to wake up and tell off whoever was laughing at my expense so, with a faint grumble, I lifted my head from its uncomfortable position on the table and blinked blearily at the foggy image before me._

_By the time I had finally adjusted my teary eyes to see who had disturbed my rest, the person in front of me gave me a friendly grin, before _patting_ me on the head, like I was a small child. My mental self was probably in hell right now, sulking at the injustice of being treated like an immature person for the second time in just as many days, but my physical self merely shifted my tired gaze to a stern glare of admonishment. Surprisingly enough, though, all the light-haired brunette opposite me did was stare calmly back into my eyes with a warm expression on his face._

_Letting go of my hair for the time being, the lanky male allowed me to straighten up in my chair and gain some sort of dignity back before he casually extended a hand. Upon my curious glance at his gesture (in my defence, I was barely awake), he easily slid a goofy grin onto his face as he rumbled:_

"_I don't really have an appointment with you, but I really did want to talk to you, so I apologize if I disturbed you from your rest. I'm Kiyoshi Teppei, a second-year member of the Basketball Club…"_

* * *

That's right; he'd said that he didn't have an appointment with me. Which means it would've been perfectly alright for me to kick him out of my office and continue sleeping. Of course, I ended up ignoring my temperamental mental self in this regard, and ended up allowing him to stay while I tried to make myself more awake. Perhaps that was dumb of me, to let this kid walk all over me, but he felt rather… comforting… if you could call it that. Maybe it was just his calm manner and his easy attitude, but I just never found the heart to kick him out of my office.

Unlike the bluenette and redhead from yesterday, this brunette gave an impression that was far more positive than negative; instead of the eerily stoic nature of the 'phantom sixth man' or the rudely brash nature of the 'Seirin Ace', this man gave off an aura of perfect calm, like everything was good with the world. It was soothing in a way that I felt open with him… but now that I think about it, perhaps that was his strategy; to make me feel at ease. Well, it sure worked; by the time we had gone through our introductions, I could safely say that I was as calm as I had ever been.

That was, until he told me of the reason for his unexpected visit…

* * *

_When we were done shaking each other's hand like some strange parody of a meeting between two important businessmen, I settled back into my seat and glanced at him in my usual stoic manner- though, internally, I was bursting with curiosity to find out the reasons for his being here. It was fairly uncommon for someone to visit a counsellor of any sort, especially a trainee one, without being forced to consult them (like my first two patients), but here was a person perfectly willing to talk to me. In any case, my curiosity did not go unanswered for long; I was just about to ask him myself when the taller male scratched his head sheepishly and mumbled:_

"_It's a bit weird for me to be here, but I couldn't help noticing the effect your counselling had on the two first-years that you met with yesterday… they were acting in a most interesting manner during training last afternoon~"_

* * *

Interesting… manner? I could probably understand that blustery redhead acting in a completely different way to what he might normally be- after all, he had shown me his brash nature, as well as his flustered and surprisingly kind sides- but I couldn't comprehend how the emotionless bluenette would act differently. I mean, sure, I didn't know them well enough to warrant such thoughts on my side, but it was always a sort of pastime for me to speculate about people; perhaps that's why I continuously chose to do degrees that had something to do with the human psyche. It was fun for me to speculate about the different manners and implications that this calming basketballer was stirring up in me with those simple comments.

Judging from the inflections that I could get from him, I had been guessing that, perhaps, the changes he indicated were more positive than negative- which was good, since this was the whole point of sports counselling, or so I'd been told. In that case, there was quite a good chance that the Kagami guy had been much less rude and stubborn, and maybe that Kuroko kid had even loosened up on his oddness a little. Of course, the male I had been 'counselling' didn't give me any hints regarding these so-called changes, but it was fun speculating. Actually, I'm _still_ speculating- so maybe it was a good idea to talk to this guy instead of continuing on my sleep.

Anyhow, we spent quite a while discussing the two who'd come and visit me yesterday (to the point that I was able to get a little more information on the both of them, which was a good thing). I would record down all the things that we discussed, but truth be told, I didn't really remember what we talked about for the better part of that hour. Most of it was just casual talk, where I got to learn about him and his basketball in exchange for the more trivial matters of my life; this time around, I wasn't dumb enough to reveal highly personal information, like the things I accidentally told that weird phantom boy.

In actual fact, talking to this male was nothing like the professional manner that all counsellors were supposed to adopt- I'm just going to put it down to his highly serene aura, but it's probably because I'm new at the job and easily influenced. Instead of the patiently detached manner that I normally treated people with, I found myself opening up a little to this guy; at one point, he even commented on the slightly animated look that I'd gotten in my eyes (which I quickly quashed). Sadly, though, I got compared to that bluenette again- was I really that creepy?- but all in all, it was an enjoyable break/chat that I had with the male.

Before I ramble on any further, though, I just wanted to note down an intriguing offer that I'm still tossing over…

* * *

_One thing had led to another and yet another, and before long, I found myself talking about all sorts of irrelevant topics which had nothing to do with being professional, or even being anywhere close to the subjects a counsellor, let alone a sports counsellor, might discuss. I had just animatedly (or as animatedly as an emotionless person like myself could get) debated the comparisons that American basketball and Japanese basketball had, when the male opposite me randomly asked:_

"_You know, you seem really into basketball… did you ever play it at one point in your life?"_

_Considering the question quietly and wondering if I should even be talking about my own sporting encounters, my mental self stubbornly yelled at me to get on with the counselling component and stop wasting time dilly-dallying around, while my physical self did the exact opposite, as always. Tilting my head slightly to one side as I examined the mildly curious aura the brunette was emitting, I twitched the corners of my mouth upwards in an approximation of a reminiscent smile as I mused:_

"_I was never a diehard fan, but street basketball was quite popular about ten or so years back…"_

"_Ah, the way you talked about basketball sounded like you really knew what you were talking about though~"_

"_It was a passing liking, though… why do you ask?"_

"_You know, I was wondering if you'd like to come to our training session tomorrow afternoon- if you don't mind and the coach is fine with it, that is… besides, I just wanted to play one-on-one with you if you didn't object to the idea~"_

* * *

As a person who wasn't all that much of a sportsperson to begin with, I was naturally taken aback by his desire to play a game of basketball with me. The fact that he thought I could still play sport was nice, seeing as teenagers didn't normally challenge people they thought to be too old or unfit to physical contests. However, that didn't mean that I wanted to accept the offer- I was interested in watching their training, simply because it would give me a chance to further analyse my two official patients, but I sure wasn't interested in exercising. I had thought that I appeared to be an apathetic man, but he clearly didn't get this message.

So I told it to him, in a very blunt manner. Strangely enough, though, it wouldn't sway him. I guess, in that respect, he managed to annoy my easily-riled mental self.

* * *

_I had given the notion barely any thought before I mumbled tonelessly:_

"_I'd happily take you up on the offer to watch your team's training, but I'm afraid my physical condition would hinder my sporting efforts-"_

"_I guess I'll see you at training and verse you one-on-one then~!"_

"_Did you not hear my refusal just then…?"_

"_I did, counsellor, but I'm merely refusing to acknowledge it. After all, you'll probably be swayed so much by our team's determination that you'll just get the irrepressible urge to play a game with me!"_

_Chuckling quietly at the stubborn display of defiance that the brunette was showing me, my amusement won momentarily over my annoyance at his mulish cheek before I subsided into my usual expressionless nature. Dropping the subject as it was, we continued to talk about other things completely unrelated to what we had been chatting about for the past ten minutes…_

* * *

Although we never strayed upon that topic of basketball again, I was acutely aware of the promise that the other had rather cleverly wrangled out of me. For the duration of our supposed consultation, I began to wonder about the motivations behind this supposedly open character. Was he like Kagami with his almost split-personality-like characteristics, or was he genuinely a cluelessly perceptive person? Was all the calmness that he exuded a carefully constructed plan to lure my defences down, just like Kuroko's calculated blandness was, or was it that I had unintentionally fallen into a random trap that the circumstances had so happily provided him?

Perhaps, instead of treating the meeting I had with him as an unauthorised meeting and thus something that shouldn't be recorded, I should write down my observations of him and create a psychoanalytical report about Kiyoshi Teppei. I might do that later, when I don't feel so muddled up about thinking about this oddly contrasting figure. He seemed so simple- so simple that I swear that he was much more complicated than he let on- and yet I had never once questioned his sincerity until now, as I write in this college-provided journal of mine. Maybe I really should go get some coffee later on… or even a nice bottle of Scotch. Something strong to burn away my confusion away would be nice later on, even if it _is_ approaching my usual hours of sleep.

Well, before I take myself up on that offer, I probably should mention that the meeting ended as strangely as it had started- he had thanked me for my time after I expressed that an hour had gone by, and with a parting ruffle of my hair, he had noiselessly left, throwing an easy smile behind his shoulder as I attempted to smooth a few offending black strands back into place. I really don't quite know what to think of him- he seems so normal and yet so strange- but… I shall stop myself there. My head is getting a little too muddled for my liking, and this is only the second day of my month-long internship.

Really, I don't know if I'll last long in this profession. I probably won't, if my last… three? two?... patients are anything to go by. But at least I'm starting to get used to all this madness now…

* * *

_**A/N: **Sorry for the ramble that was Kiyoshi's 'psychoanalysis'... anyhow, just so readers know, I'm tossing up between doing Hyuuga Junpei or just skipping him in favour of Aida Riko, so if anyone is willing to give input to help my dilemma, then that would be awesome~ I also finished this pretty late at night, unlike previous chapters (which I finished off at normal times) so I apologize if there are any mistakes that are glaringly obvious- unfortunately, I've yet to find a beta so my stories have a high chance of having mistakes pop up. Well, I'll just stop my waffling here for the time being... so yea, thanks for reading and please stay tuned for the next chapter~_


	5. Mitobe Rinnosuke

**Patient Four: Mitobe Rinnosuke**

This time, instead of rushing headlong into my office, I decided to check up on my official email inbox, and I was glad I did too; it turns out that, instead of staying five days at my temporary office in Seirin High, my last day was scheduled as a break and thus, I could clear out my office after the final consultation tomorrow. Luckily enough for me, I also had just one meeting to attend, and that was going to occur later on in the afternoon, so I spent the morning in the most relaxed manner I had ever been in since this whole internship had dropped onto me. Of course, time went by too quickly and before I knew it, I was already on the bus headed to the public high school.

From the initial report that I had on my latest patient, I gathered the idea that he would be a much less troublesome person to deal with than my initial patients, which was a huge relief to me. Of course, I was a bit concerned about the bit in the report that stated him as 'mute', since I've never quite managed to handle sign language (or any other language bar Japanese and English, to be exact) but I guess I would do just fine. After all, if the report was anything to go by, this person wasn't going to be too much of an issue to deal with, thanks to the copious amounts of information that I had on him. Actually, there was so much information that I nearly missed the bus stop, but I was fortunate that someone else was also getting off as well.

I should probably mention that I never turn up to appointments or anything with a fixed time at a later time than agreed. So it really wasn't my fault that I found myself walking into my office, which wasn't quite as empty as I'd left it…

* * *

_As the sort of person who normally forgets to close doors properly (let alone lock them), I wasn't all that surprised to find that the plank of wood sealing my office from the corridor was slightly ajar. However, I did not make a habit of allowing people into my personal spaces, so I was a little peeved to realize that there were muted voices coming from inside my temporary room. By the time I opened the door, though, I realized two things: one, my patient already seemed to be there, and two, I had only heard one voice, not two._

_When I barged in on the duo seated comfortably in the guest seats, I heard something like:_

"_Don't worry, Kiyoshi said that the counsellor wasn't scary, so you'll be fine~ Oh, hey, I think lunch is about to start so I'm going to leave, okay? I'll see you tomorrow then!"_

_It was at this point that I collided into the leaving figure, whose fringe nearly poked me in the eye due to the proximity that we were forced into. Stepping aside to let him pass and lazily waving away his hurried apology, I sighed slightly before setting down my shoulder bag and easing into my chair. As I glanced at the passive figure seated before me, I politely enquired:_

"_You are… Mitobe Rinnosuke, correct?"_

_But all I got in reply was an imperceptible nod and a slight smile, almost as if he was giving me an affirmative and a greeting…_

* * *

Although I had expected him to be a reserved character, perhaps even as expressionless as that short bluenette, I was mildly surprised to note that he was expressive… just not with his words. I have a godson who is a little like that as well- he acts quite frostily but his actions denote his intentions clearly- so I felt much more capable in my counselling session than I had previously felt I would be. Ideally, someone like that brunette from yesterday (with, perhaps, a little less curiosity in my personality) would have made an easy person to counsel, but I had been warned that my work experience would not be easy; if anything, knowing my lecturer and the college staff that knew me, they'd make sure that my internship would go horribly.

Due to the fact that I was a pretty lazy person to begin with, both in my words and actions, we didn't get too far after the introduction- in fact, if my sense of time isn't twisted, we probably spent about five minutes sitting in comfortable silence. My mental self was already curled up and asleep at this point, thanks to the lack of activity going on, but my physical self was merely analysing the lanky figure that sat opposite me…

* * *

_Despite the fact that this male seemed to be taller and more self-collected than I could ever hope to be, Mitobe didn't really annoy me as much as some of the other patients had- if anything, I felt a comfortable sort of peace with him, quite unlike the slightly-overwhelming calm that I had received from the brunette yesterday. Glancing to the ravenette and noticing that he had taken out a bento and slid it towards me, I was about to enquire why he had done so when, much to my chagrin, my neglected stomach growled loudly. Perhaps he was psychic (though my mental self scoffed at the thought) or maybe he had some sort of intuition, but I was quite happy to receive the lunch from him._

_As I opened the box and gazed inside, I was awed by the simplistic yet enticing sight that met me. Being a person that failed at any sort of culinary arts (if anything, I was suited to none of the household chores that most people living alone had some sort of grasp on), I didn't really understand how some people could just magically create such stuff, but I don't think I was going to complain anytime soon. If anything, my mental self was already stuffing himself silly; my physical self, though, chose to sample the differing arrays available inside with a little more dignity. By the time I was done, I had wasted about ten minutes eating the student's bento, but if anything, he seemed quite glad that I had eaten his food- not that I could actually tell, since all I could perceive was a slightly more noticeable smile and a brighter light in the other's eyes. Not forgetting my manners, I bowed to him as best as I could before murmuring:_

"_That was really good… I do wonder, though, about how you managed to predict a need for the food, make something so good, and then give it to a complete stranger too…"_

_I got my explanation to my first statement in the form of a none-too-subtle glance to the clock- it turned out that, unlike the previous days, lunch had been shifted to an hour earlier (unfortunately, I had not been informed of this), and he had predicted that I would probably try to get some lunch later, only to find out that lunch had passed because of my session. He probably didn't quite care that I was a complete stranger, which touched me a little (though, of course, I didn't bother to show it on my face), and as for how he could make it so good…_

* * *

It turned out that he lived in a really large family where he was the eldest sibling so, unlike the good-for-nothing person that I was when it came to household duties, this guy was an expert at practically anything that had to do with the house. He could cook and clean, and he was also very aware of other people (again, something that I wasn't all too good at), so, as his actions seemed to say, he was able to take care of me, a complete and utter stranger, without too many qualms. As heart-warming as it was and as grateful as I felt, I guess I never really expressed it except in that initial thanks, but I'm sure he got the message from my persistent questions about his household- or, of course, he thought I was being the nosy counsellor that I was supposed to be.

In any case, we spent the majority of our session talking about his family (well, I talked and he 'talked') and I was shocked at the amount of immediate and extended family members that this guy seemed to have. Unlike a person like me, who had a very small amount of relatives and an even smaller amount of which I bothered to keep in touch with at all, this guy was social in his own strange way and it made me question why I was even counselling a guy like this. Well, yes, there was the fact that he had never been caught talking or even opening his mouth for that matter, but that had nothing to do with a personality trait that could impede on his basketball.

So I decided that, even if I wouldn't get a very thorough answer, I might as well ask him his reasons behind coming here anyway. It wasn't as if he would be forced, like the bluenette and redhead had probably been…

* * *

_I'm sure he had come prepared to 'talk' about his family since he had brought a whole-family photo from his pocket (which, by the way, I'm amazed he managed to fit inside that tiny pants pocket of his- I swear he had to unfold it about 4-5 times before he could even begin to show me his family members), but I couldn't very well focus on a 'discussion' about his relatives when all I wanted to know was his reasons for coming here. He was a level-headed individual that only had his apparent muteness as a drawback, so there really wasn't any reason for him to come here and waste an hour of his lunch talking to me, of all people that he could talk to. It was obvious that he had friends, so why come here to get counselling, when he could talk to that guy who was with him before? So I decided to ask him as much when there was a comfortable lull in our 'conversation':_

"_Just out of curiosity… why did you decide to come get sports counselling?"_

_I did not expect him to talk, and I was right in my expectations; however, I didn't expect him to give the reaction that he deigned to give to my impassively-delivered query. Watching neutrally as the male ran a hand through his hair and becoming ever so slightly intrigued as he furrowed his brows in thought, I was about to tell him that it was fine, that he didn't really need to answer my question, when he shrugged. It was a helpless sort of shrug, as if it was to say that… he didn't have a reason to come here…_

* * *

Whoa, whoa, wait a moment, he didn't actually have any reason for coming here? What sort of person goes and wastes their lunchtime with a complete stranger, brings their friend along for support and some sort of encouragement at the beginning, and then goes on 'chatting' about his life before quietly expressing confusion at their presence?! Perhaps it seems a bit harsh to judge him on that, but right then, my mental self had spontaneously combusted from confusion, surprise and anger. Even my physical self, at that point, stayed frozen for a minute or so as I processed that completely unexpected thought in my mind.

I know I said that I felt him to be the most normal of the Seirin basketballers that had decided to visit my office, but I was starting to regret thinking that- because, really, what sort of sane person comes to talk to a counsellor when they clearly don't understand why they need one to begin with? Well, there went my sense of normality, yet again; I guess that he had his own inexplicable personality traits and actions too. Though, how I was going to explain this in my report was going to be a different matter entirely, since that was the only 'abnormal' tendency that he displayed for the duration of that hour.

After he pretty much explained that he was there for no particular reason (hey, at least the other three had some sort of reason, as half-arsed as it was), we steered clear of the topic and I, being the unimaginatively lazy person that I was, asked him about school and all those mundane conversation sustainers for the rest of our time together. He, too, broke at one point to eat his own bento- turns out that he had brought one for himself too, seeing as he also realized that he wouldn't have time to eat later- and I think it was the only time I had ever seen his mouth open. I know, weird observation, but still, most people usually opened their mouth to wet their lips or breathe or whatever, but this guy just never seemed to open his mouth unless he ate.

Just like most of our conversation, the way in which the taller male parted with me at the end of our session was normal, to say the most; the only anomaly was the letter that he gave me, which, now that I think about it, was the weirdest thing about our conversation. Who knew that he was also someone's personal messenger too…?

* * *

_Just as I had stood up from my position in my chair to show him outside, the basketball player held up a hand, almost as if he was asking me to wait, before he drew out an envelope and handed it to me. Somehow expressing that I should read it later on, when he was gone (because it looked as if he wasn't intent on knowing the contents of his letter, interestingly enough), he bowed to me and left noiselessly, leaving me to stand in the middle of the room, like an idiot, with a letter clutched in my hand. With a quiet sigh, I watched as he shut the door before I settled back into my seat._

_The letter was not very remarkable- all it was, after all, was the average sealed letter- but the apparent 'sender' of the letter, Seirin High's Basketball Club, was intriguing. Opening the letter with a handy pair of scissors (since I wasn't bothered hunting around my drawers for a letter opener), I glanced to the contents and felt my eyebrows lift slightly- a miracle in itself, seeing as I am not a person that normally expresses surprise. The letter went something like this:_

_**Mr Counsellor,  
**__We don't have access to your email or your address so we decided to have Mitobe ferry the letter to you; we hope that this isn't of too much inconvenience to you, but we've scheduled our training session to tomorrow. We all heard from Kiyoshi that he invited you to come to our training, and we'd be honoured to have you watch us train, but our coach decided that it would be a better idea to let her have a counselling session with you first before we allowed you to have that one-on-one match that our former Ace seems so bent on. In any case, we hope to see you tomorrow and we look forward to that match you promised with Kiyoshi.  
__**The Seirin High Basketball Club**_

* * *

It seems that news travelled fast in their club, which was annoying; I had hoped that the brunette had forgotten about my answer to his challenge. Well, that meant that I had to do a bit of an early visit to the gym after I finish that ravenette's report, so I'll probably have to call it an early night then. Perhaps it was a little rash of me to take the bait that a high-schooler dangled in front of me, but even if I am an emotionless and lethargic individual, I still have my pride. At least my last visit to the gym was within the month, so I guess I'll be fine. I hope I'll be fine, at any rate…

* * *

_**A/N: **I know I said that I was going to do Hyuuga Junpei or Aida Riko next, but I apologize for being a troll by picking neither. Again, I'm not familiar with this particular Seirin basketballer, but I hope I portrayed him right... please tell me if I placed something in here that was inconsistent with his actual personality. Most of all, though, I hope you've enjoyed this new chapter and that you'll find the time to R&R if possible~_


	6. Aida Riko

**Patient Five: Aida Riko**

Officially, I had no more patients left to treat (if my pathetic attempts at gathering information about them is anything close to this so-called 'treatment' that sports counsellors like myself are supposed to be doing) but unofficially, I still had one more person that I had left to see, and that was the coach of the Seirin High Basketball Club. I was a little confused when I first heard that the coach was a sophomore and a girl, no less- from experience, I remembered all coaches being old men, no offence meant- but I suppose that a school which shot up to the Winter Cup Finals in the first two years of its formation was an incredibly unusual club. So I guess there were concessions to be made; some of which, I gather, were the odd team members and the unusual coach.

Generally speaking, I didn't have an appointment set up with the coach, since she wasn't officially a patient that needed treatment and thus had to do all the pesky paperwork that came with arranging a session with me, but I came to my office a little earlier than necessary so that I could comfortably pack away all my belongings from my temporary room and still have time left over to have that consultation. Now that I think about it, since this meeting is unofficial, I don't really need to write it in this college journal, but I decided to anyway. Maybe it's because this journal has a few too many pages and I feel like I should really fill it up before my month is over, or maybe it's because I really can't be bothered starting up a personal journal of my own- in any case, I decided to record it in here.

The only warning that I received of her sudden intrusion was a slip of paper that was mailed through the crack underneath my office door about five minutes before her arrival, so, needless to say, I was once again startled by a sudden and none-too-subtle presence in my room. In my defence, though, I was busy clearing the drawers of my table for belongings and thus had my back turned to the door for a good amount of time…

* * *

_I had never realized that the drawers were filled with so much rubbish- some of the things were clearly not mine, like a half-used lipstick container and crumpled sheets of pages filled with doodles, and I really wished that people were just a little neater and that my memory was a little better. Since I could not recall whether I'd accidentally stuffed anything of importance into the drawers, I had no choice but to rummage through them, and so here I was, trying very hard not to get anything onto my hands as I searched for potential missing items._

_I was just about to extract what looked to be a pair of gloves (which might or might not belong to me, since I never bother putting any labels of ownership onto my items) when a loud rapping on the door assaulted my ears. Needless to say, I was startled by the unexpected thumping and proceeded to drop the item I had in my hand, those pair of gloves, back into the mess that was the drawers. If only that person had come later, then I might've been able to save them… but those thoughts were a little too late anyhow._

_Sighing to myself as I suppressed the mental urge to damn the person to hell and back in an anger-filled yell, I stepped onto something that made a weird crunching sound (which I later found out to be a piece of paper informing me of the intrusion- unfortunately, it was too late for me by the time I noticed) before reaching to open the door. Just as I was about to turn the handle, the door flew open with a swift kick that ended up making the wood smack straight into my face._

_Since I was a normal human being and thus obeyed Newton's Third Law (the one where an equal force provides an equal reaction), I had no time to figure out what was going on before my rear end landed squarely on the ground. As somebody who disliked having their face and behind abused within seconds of each other, I was suitably annoyed by the time I realized that my next 'patient' was calmly waiting for me to get up…_

* * *

As a person who normally has horrible luck, it didn't take me too long to get over the indecency of my graceless fall or the humiliating position that my unofficial patient had forced me into. Of course, this didn't mean that I was accepting of my situation- I will probably kowtow to anyone who can be perfectly at ease in such a disadvantageous position- so I suppose, if a scowl did end up showing on my face, then I can't really say anything in my defence. As it was, though, the ungainly sight of the sports counsellor that was supposed to be playing her former Ace on a one-on-one game was probably making a pretty bad impression on her- but I must say, she wasn't making a good impression for me either, so all was fair on either side.

The fierce no-nonsense aura that she naturally exuded immediately increased my initially-lowly opinion of her, seeing as it was hard for a short girl like her to really pull of the level of intimidation that I normally associated with tall, gruff males. However, her slightly childish looks (and, as much as I attempted to dissuade myself from looking too pointedly, her lack of a chest) made me feel as if she wasn't a person that I could really take seriously, and her tomboyish appearance did nothing for her in terms of raising my opinion of her. All in all, she was an unimpressive figure that I wouldn't take a second glance at if I passed her on the street, but were it not for her aura, then she could've passed off as a completely mundane person.

Of course, by the time I was done analysing her, I was sure that she, too, had analysed me in her own way, so I scarcely had the time to loiter any further before our strange introduction was cut short. When I mean 'cut short', though, I don't mean it in a good way; instead of helping me up or apologizing, as I had faintly hoped, she did something that made me like her less, but respect her attitude a little more. Though, I must mention, this admiration was totally reluctant on my part…

* * *

"_Stop lounging around on the floor and direct me to the sports counsellor that I'm supposed to meet, please! Training starts in about two hours and I'd like to have enough time to prepare their training menu, so if it is convenient, please let me see him quickly~"_

_This rather sharp remark, followed by an attempt to be cute, would've knocked me off my feet in shock were I not already off my feet. Feeling a definite attempt at an annoyed scowl beginning to tug at my lips as I unhurriedly dusted myself off and stood up, I eyed her a little wearily and forced my mental self to stop exploding from fury inside my mind, before I mumbled a little morosely:_

"_You must be Aida Riko, yes…? I'm actually the sports counsellor, you know…"_

_As her eyes widened rather comically in surprise, I was torn between amusement at her childish display of emotions, and annoyance at the notion that she'd only seen me as some sort of intern. Scratching my nape a little as she struggled for words, before holding up a hand to stop the inevitable torrent of words that I was sure was on the tip of her tongue, I ushered her in and shut the door behind her before walking languidly to my seat. While she scrambled to seat herself as well, I noticed her eyes widening a little more again, and it was with a bit of resignation that I realized that she was staring at the opened drawer, in which there was the unholy mess of items I had been attempting to rummage through mere minutes ago. With another muted sigh, I shut the drawer and shook my head imperceptibly at my carelessness in not closing it earlier, before I faced her._

_After waiting for her to speak first, a rather uncomfortable silence stretched between us and it didn't take long for me to realize that she had nothing to say. Brushing some stubborn strands of hair out of my eyes as I mentally rummaged around for something intelligent to say, I ended up with nothing much at all, and ended up bluntly asking her:_

"_So, what exactly brings you here when, clearly, it seems you might have other things that are better worth doing…? No offense meant, of course…"_

_While her eyes frosted over slightly at my impudent-sounding question and refused to soften up even as I tacked on an apology of sorts, her gaze snapped up from her intertwined hands to my carefully blank face as she replied, in a tone that was even more blunt than mine:_

"_I had to make sure that you were fit to play against Kiyoshi, that's all. Otherwise I wouldn't be here"_

* * *

I don't know if it was just her usual attitude to be so cold to strangers who made bad impressions or it was just my annoyance at her biasing my judgement, but I was becoming steadily peeved by her unrelentingly harsh tone towards me. I know that I sound like a careless individual and my words are not as honey-coated as some people wish they were, but that doesn't mean that it warrants such a high amount of dislike; surely, I was not such a horrible person. Although the meeting only ever went for half the time it was supposed to run for, the strain still managed to tax me as much as the hour-long consultations had, simply because I never seemed to act right in front of this person.

Before I wrote this (and lamentably, after my session with her was over), I had done a casual search of her name and had found that she was the daughter of a rather famous sports trainer and former national basketball champion, Aida Kagetora- perhaps that explained her fearsome attitude. It also seemed as if she was known as the 'demon coach' by not only the Seirin Basketball members, but also by quite a few other schools which had witnessed her brutal training sessions, and so, if I had been bothered to do a general search on her beforehand, I might have been warned about her rather strict nature. Because of my lack of information, I had ended up angering her and probably incurring her wrath thanks to my stupidity, but then again, I suppose that's the story of my life.

Well, all I can do now is swallow my regrets at inflaming the situation during my time with her, but there was one thing that I should probably put down as something of interest about her, and that is her ability to 'scan' people. The reason that I know about this apparently well-kept secret (which isn't well-kept anymore, since I've recorded it down here for any sorry individual to read) is because of her use of it on me. As much as I don't wish to put down what happened, it would be rather handy information when it comes to a potential report that I might have to write about her, so here goes nothing in my weird recount then…

* * *

_No matter what I said to the girl, she just seemed to get more and more impatient with me- was it just her ability to sense my mental self's overflowing feelings of anger, or was it just something else that was weighing upon my mind? In any case, it was a little disheartening for her to rebuff nearly every single question that I was trying to ask her for the purposes of my pseudo-job, and I was just about to give up and kick her out, the report be damned, when she said a most curious line:_

"_If you don't mind, could you stand up and take off your shirt so I can evaluate your fitness level?"_

_Okay… so _what_ did she just say? Right, she wanted me to take off my shirt… as if I'd do that. Not only is that some sort of breach of privacy (I can't tell either way, since I'd never done anything to do with law), it would probably be highly awkward if, say, a member of staff walked in to see me, in front of a girl, with my shirt off. What sort of compromising position is this kid trying to put me in?!_

_As if the girl had just read my thoughts, she sighed noisily before repeated sternly:_

"_Just take off your shirt. I promise this isn't anything dodgy, so just, please, take it off and let us be on our way already. I don't have all day, you know…"_

_Huffing slightly but too tired to argue (yes, I know that argument is flawed- if you're too lazy to argue then why bother obeying her?- but in my reasoning, it would be much more effortless to just concede than to participate in a long bout of shouting that I was sure to lose anyhow), I was inwardly glad for picking a loose-fitting T-shirt to wear as I yanked it off my torso. Laying the article of clothing onto my chair and stepping away from the table so she could 'examine' me better, as she claimed, I was intrigued to witness her hitherto-classified ability._

_It seemed as if a multi-layered scope had magically inserted herself into both her eyes as she stared rather intently at my uncovered upper half. Slowly running her eyes over my lax form and honing in on the half-concealed abdominal muscles, she quickly let the strange addition to her eyes fade as soon as she was done looking me over. If I had to sum up my experience of being stared at so intently for no apparent reason by a strange kid, then I would have to say that it was downright weird._

_Anyhow, when I was finally allowed to don my shirt again, she casually rattled off her analysis of my body as if she was a seasoned pro- and it was then that I realized exactly why this girl was the coach of the famous Seirin High Basketball Club:_

"_You've probably done intensive sport previously in your life and your base stats are pretty good so I'm quite impressed by that, but it seems as if you've gone and let yourself go lately which explains the decrease I can perceive in your stamina and power levels. At least you've been attempting to keep yourself in shape, since your muscles aren't quite hidden that well, and you still have the sort of body movement that most athletes tends to possess. I suppose you'll be fine to verse Kiyoshi and maybe even Kagami, but I should warn you that you're nowhere near as good as those two"_

_As she got up to leave at this point (which, mind you, I hadn't given her expressed permission to do so- peeving, but unable to be helped, I guess), I narrowly caught the passing comment that she muttered under her breath, which sounded something like:_

"_God knows how he can see anything interesting in this guy…"_

_Before, once again, I was left to myself…_

* * *

Slightly- wait, scrap that, make it _highly_- annoyed at her words, I dismissed her parting words and pretended that my pride had not been damaged at all… ah, who was I kidding, I was pretty disheartened by what the kid had said. Despite her rude nature and her blunt words, I could detect the naked truth in her harsh conversation with me, so I guess I can't really slight her that much for treating me as unashamedly as I had treated her. Well, I guess I should stop writing and begin to haul my ass over to the basketball court for that training game (which she, too, seems to expect me to attend, since that note underneath my door said so), so I'll write more later… or not…

* * *

_**A/N: **This chapter would've been uploaded sooner were it not for... offline issues... that I was dealing with. Anyhow, I apologize for the length of this (I just couldn't seem to shorten it any further) and the mean nature that Riko seems to have in this- I just thought that she wouldn't look too kindly at my derp of a sports counsellor. The next few chapters, until the resumption of the 'college journal' thing, will pretty much be in first person and will tell things from the present tense- which I have no experience with writing, so I shall apologize in advance if it sounds highly flawed.  
Oh, and I should mention that I'm a horrible person and that I lie, seeing as this does have an established timeline now (it takes place in the lull after the Winter Cup tournaments- or, well, the lull that I'm predicting will happen after that) but I will make no allusions to whether Seirin or Rakuzan were the winners, as I have no idea of the results yet. Yep, anyways, sorry for the ramble and I hope that, if time permits, some readers might be willing to R&R~  
_


	7. (T) Seirin High

_**A/N: **I decided to slot in some sidestory chapters to flesh this fanfic out a little- I shall apologize in advance for the accidental interchanges of present- and past-tense, as well as the thought-jumping and the weirdness of this chapter in general; perhaps I should find myself a Beta to edit my stories, seeing as I'm starting to fail in terms of self-editing. In any case, (T) stands for 'Training Session', (E) stands for 'Evaluation' and (B) stands for 'Break', but the latter two will be used later on in future chapters. And once again, I am deeply sorry for the retardedness of this chapter- frankly speaking, my brain died halfway through and I was just about ready to throw myself against a wall once I was done writing this. Please do tell me if the chapter feels off, because I'll probably replace this with a better-written piece of writing, but until then, please don't kill me for failing... anyhow, back to the chapter at hand..._

* * *

**First Training Session: Seirin High**

I should probably mention that I have no experience when it comes to basketball training- what I know comes from incessant games of street basketball with the neighbourhood kids and the moves that my elder brother had once shown me, many years ago. I had gone to enough basketball matches in my life to realize that people often practiced before games, usually with lay-ups and passes, but it was probably nothing compared to the hour-long sessions that most basketball teams endured for once, twice, even three times a week. Yes, it's ironic how I know practically nothing about the sport in which I'm currently attempting to 'counsel' people in, but I guess I'm just unlucky that way. Then again, the only sport I really know about is probably long-distance running, but that was in a long-gone era, which I don't plan on reliving anytime soon.

Despite all my misgivings about this whole 'let's go and watch kids train for some unknown purpose' thing, I continue down the empty corridor towards the gym- or, at least, where I think the gym is. See, the problem is that I don't actually know where things are; all I was ever interested in was the area surrounding my office and the nearby cafeteria, so in actual fact I knew nothing of the location of most things. One thing that helps, though, is the faint echo of squeaking shoes that is reaching my ears. In any case, my walk does not take all that long and I finally reach the entrance to the rather impressively-large gymnasium.

I steel myself- for what, I'm not too sure yet- and set my palms against the doors, before I ease them open with less noise than I'd expected them to make. Although it is clear that everyone notices the foreign entity that constitutes me, the team continue the suicides that they're currently doing (which, to a non-sprinter like me, is purely awe-inspiring) while the coach waves happily at me and walks over. I find this odd, simply because she had been treating me rather coldly during that meeting I had just had with her about an hour back, but all thoughts fly from my mind when somebody beats her to my inert form.

Wait, scratch that- make it a some_thing_. Namely, a dog.

As I've probably iterated before, I do not like dogs; one reason might be because I'm allergic to them, but the main reason would probably be my irrational and completely inexplicable dislike of them. I do not readily allow animals into my presence and the ones that do end up setting me on edge, and this time is no exception- to my everlasting shame, I gave an uncharacteristic squeak before backing away from the tiny Siberian Husky. Most people are normally amused by this unmanly display, but strangely enough, everybody notices but nobody laughs at my dismay- I later find out that this is because a certain tsundere redhead is also irrationally afraid of dogs, and the team have merely gotten used to the hilarious reactions that dog-haters like me put on.

The drama ends in a surprisingly mundane manner when the coach approaches the dog (whose name finally returns to me) and, after petting Tetsuya #2's head, shoos the puppy away from me. As I attempt to slow my racing heart and the sneeze that is threatening to fly explosively from my nose, the coach gives me some time to sort myself out, and when the sneeze finally overtakes me, she offers a tissue, as if such things are commonplace, and firmly grabs me by the arm after I am done. Before I can even open my mouth to protest the… manhandling?... that I am currently experiencing, she blows the whistle that has miraculously appeared in her lips, before the whole team comes over to gather around her in a loose semicircle of sorts.

When my arm is finally returned to me I feel a slight sense of relief, but relief morphed into slight worry when I note the coach talking rather animatedly about the one-on-one that the Kiyoshi kid had set me up to play two days earlier. Being the hopelessly unlucky person that I am, it seems that my wish to be spared the indignity of losing, to a kid no less, was never answered- alas, since my luck had never been good to begin with, I am already used to being let down by whatever deities see fit to make fun of my life.

Before my thoughts could overwhelm my flagging spirit at my fate, though, I was suddenly aware of the words that the female coach was telling her team:

"…let's have a practice match between the 1st-years and 2nd-years to warm up, okay?"

So perhaps my luck wasn't all that bad- at least my humiliation was postponed until this friendly game was over. While everyone prepared themselves in the common fashion of lay-ups and passes, I take my eyes off the courts momentarily to sit down on an unoccupied bench. Well, I was quite certain the bench was not taken up by sports bags and the odd person rehydrating themselves, but alas, I had somehow managed to forget about the very first patient that I had ever encountered. Sadly for me, I nearly got a heart attack for the second time in a week when I heard a mumbled:

"I'm impressed that you accepted Kiyoshi's request…"

Memories that I had repressed of the teal-haired male sitting next to me resurface again and I struggle not to give into my mental urges and faint on the spot from fright. As expressionless blue eyes latch onto mine, I inwardly wonder about the fright that his team-mates probably suffered as a result of Kuroko's ghost-like mannerisms, while I stare passively back. Being a prideful person, I refuse to express my surprise and fright at his sudden appearance, but the slight quirk of his lips hint at the notion that he already knows of my tumultuous emotions. I rack my brains for any sort of distraction to ease the frantic pounding of my heart and, as luck may have it, I find something to say:

"…Since when were you on the bench?"

"I was here before you decided to take your gaze off our training and sit down here"

"It must be amusing to you to see other's reactions at your appearances…"

"It is indeed amusing, but it can be frightfully annoying at times, you kno-"

"Oi, Kuroko, stop slacking off and get over here already!"

"It appears as if Kagami is calling me to train… perhaps we can talk another time then"

Without so much as a backward glance, the short male stands up and adjusts his black sweatbands, before he lightly jogs over to the grumpy redhead on the court and accepts the annoyed thump that the other gives to his head. Smiling ever so slightly at the obvious display of camaraderie between the aggressive-looking Power Forward and the lacklustre passer (which, now that I think about it, doesn't really have a set position in the set regulations of basketball- perhaps he is a Point Guard? Who knows…), I zone out for a little as random thoughts consume me. It is for this reason that I don't notice the presence of the coach, Riko, next to me until she grips my shoulder and hisses:

"Please do not zone out while our players are preparing a match for your benefit- it might be of use for you to analyse your patients' talents and add them to the report that counsellors like you must produce. I would advise you to pay close attention to your opponent in your upcoming match with him… and by the way, I look forward to watching you play too~ So please don't disappoint us…"

As she releases her tight grip on my shoulder and instructs the players to get into position on the court, I shudder lightly at the odd sense of kindness and frostiness I can sense from this coach. I'm not sure how the team manages to cope with such a person, but it isn't obvious to see that, under her rather harsh words, she does seem to care- so perhaps that's why everyone is able to tolerate her berating comments and her tough training. I make a mental note to add that to the things I probably should add to her report- which I'm _still_ unsure of handing in at the end of my internship- and, taking her advice, I closely examine the basketballers as they begin to move on the court.

It doesn't surprise me when I see the raw power in Kagami Taiga- his aura is intimidating both on and off the courts, and he effortlessly overwhelms the older (and presumably more experienced) players as he forces his way through to dunk the ball. It also doesn't surprise me when I see the ball mysteriously change directions, and then later figure out that it was all the work of Kuroko Tetsuya- despite the familiarity that he must have with his team, it seems as if they can still be startled by his lacking aura. What does surprise me, though, is the fact that Kiyoshi Teppei seems to be both a Center and a Point Guard, the ease in which he fulfils both roles, and his ability to harness the largeness of his hands and put them to good use in both offense and defence.

But I should probably stop digressing at this point, because as much as I would like to examine all the players and their individual skills, I cannot rant on for much longer about all these things just so I can ease my mind off the upcoming one-on-one scheduled for me. I can safely say that, by the time the game was over (and the 1st-years had, predictably enough, won the game, thanks to Kagami's and Kuroko's teamwork), I had analysed my opponent as much as my mind possibly could- yet I was still certain that I was going to lose. I did not have any special abilities and I had only found out that my opponent was one of the so-called 'Uncrowned Kings', the older version of the 'Generation of Miracles', and if my mental self had his way then I would probably be coming up with any sort of excuse to postpone or even cancel the game. Alas, my physical self had its pride to maintain and, with nothing to prevent my fate, I prepared myself to play.

* * *

Needless to say, I was instantly defeated.

Not only could I break past the defence of the taller brunette, I could do nothing to block the unpredictable movements of his hands. In the five minutes that I was against him, I could not score a single basket, and yet he managed to get about ten inside. I was huffing and puffing by the time our match was declared over, and yet he had not even broken out into a sweat by the time we were done. Although I had expected as much when I was pitted against him, I did not expect to lose so horrendously, and it seemed that the spectators of our game thought the exact same thing as I did.

Despite my loss, though, I shake my opponent's hand and calmly brush off the pity and sympathy that I feel is emanating from the basketball team. Before I could beat a hasty retreat and consolidate my loss in the comfort of a pub, I feel someone slipping something into my empty hands and, for the second time in the day, I nearly jump out of my skin at the appearance of the phantom basketballer. As I recover, once again, from the fright I was given, I hear the boy murmur lightly:

"We were required to make an evaluation of your counselling sessions, so here is the tape recording mine, Kagami's, Mitobe's, Kiyoshi's and Riko's statements. You can choose what you want to do with it, but perhaps you can look at it if time permits…"

I nod in thanks, but before I can finally make my escape I was stopped by a loud shout:

"Oi, counsellor, you better not watch that or I'll- OW, WHAT WAS THAT FOR KUROKO?!"

"You were being too noisy and besides, it would be a waste to throw it away"

"Bakagami, you think it's fun to threaten people, huh? Maybe I should triple your training menu as punishment…"

"Ah, what the hell?! What do you think you're doing then, you're threatening people too!"

"But Riko has got a point…"

"Dammit, Kuroko, don't gang up on me!"

While the bickering goes on behind me, I quietly slip out and allow them to continue fighting amongst themselves. As I make my way back home and wonder if I should just drink myself into oblivion to save myself from agonizing over my loss today, my thoughts wander over to the tape in my hand. To watch it or not to watch it…? Perhaps I'll see to it later.

Right now, though, I really need a relaxing shower and maybe some beer. Yes, that would be a good idea indeed…


	8. (E) Seirin High- I

_**A/N: **I was initially going to write the whole evaluation in a single segment, but by the time I had planned out the first evaluation, I figured out that this chapter would be double the length of any chapter I'd written if I continued it... so I split it into two chapters. Anyhow, I shall warn everyone that the counsellor will begin to act snarkier than usual since he's in the confines of his home, so he might act a little different from his usual MPD/lazy/passive self. But please, do read on~_

* * *

**First Evaluation, Part One: Seirin High**

It's a relief to be back home, and I'm quick to kick off my shoes and take a nice, long shower to ease the soreness in my muscles. The disappointment and humiliation from losing that game of one-on-one basketball to the former Seirin Ace is beginning to fade a little, so I guess that provides some relief for me, but it'll probably take much longer for the whole incident to disappear from my mind. As much as I love recalling instances where my weaknesses are shown, I don't. So obviously, I'm quite reluctant to find that ghost-kid's words repeating through my mind when I finish my shower and accidentally spot the tape I'd been holding onto prior to my shower.

To be totally honest, I'm a little amazed at myself for not throwing it straight into the nearest rubbish bin as soon as I'd left the school for good. I'm not sure what, but something compelled me to hold onto it throughout my bus trip and then continue holding onto it until I arrived home and realized a shower was in order. Of course, now that my mind has cleared up and I actually thinking properly again, I rack my mind for a reason as to why I should even bother wasting my time watching this when I discover something.

As much as I don't wish to admit it, I'm curious as to their opinions of me.

This is the farthest any of my long-term attempts at integrating myself into the working society has come, and it would be a complete lie to say that I'm not interested in the reactions my albeit-pseudo job has caused in my patients. Now, I know that I didn't end up doing my job with _any_ of the people I was supposed to psychoanalyse, but it really isn't my fault that my efforts were constantly thwarted by them; besides, what am I possibly able to do with the troublesome patients that were offloaded onto me? I'm sure I can imagine my lecturer snorting at my failures and goading me harshly about my initial cockiness to the internship, but I can't help reminding myself that most of my lecturers are arses anyway and I couldn't care less about their opinions.

But I digress from the issue at hand, which is to watch or not to watch the evaluations of those Seirin High basketballers. On the one hand, if I watch it, it'll probably be filled with snarky comments on how much I suck, and I'll end up getting so annoyed at the world that I drink myself into oblivion for the whole weekend, and effectively arrive at my next job location with a massive hangover. What remnants of pride I have left will undoubtedly be crushed and I'll end up an emotional wreck, not that I was ever one of emotions to begin with. On the other hand, if I choose not to watch it, I can save myself the torture and go about my weekend optimistically thinking that I had avoided being put down for my failed psychoanalysis attempts. Even if I never know, my usual lack of curiosity means that I'll probably never think about it again after I reject the notion of watching this.

With the glaringly obvious choice set before me, I pick up the tape and take a steady breath… before I insert it into my TV and begin watching.

* * *

_The screen displays static for a few moments before an empty room is shown. It's probably a locker room, judging from the rows of nondescript metallic boxes stretching along its walls, and the benches arranged a few centimetres in front of them. Anyhow, this scene is shown for a matter of seconds before quiet shuffling echoes and a glimpse of the first person appears on-screen. The distinctively emotionless eyes and sky-blue hair is hard to miss, and it's obvious that, as the very first patient to be psychoanalysed, Kuroko Tetsuya is the first to evaluate his appointment. He takes his time getting comfortable on the solitary chair in the middle of the screen and refuses to glance into the camera until he is absolutely fine with his surroundings, and when he finally chooses to begin his evaluation it seems as if he thinks he will be making his final speech before his death, if the seriousness of his face is anything to go by. Clearly, he is mentally uncomfortable with this._

"_Greetings… I assume you ended up allowing curiosity to win over base instinct and perhaps all this effort on our part is not in vain- I say 'our', because this was not solely my idea. Technically speaking, a digital evaluation is not compulsory but our coach nagged us into presenting something for your valiant attempts at psychoanalysing us…"_

_At this, he pauses and glances down to his intertwined hands, and he stays in this position for a while. When he seems to have worded his comments in his mind, he directs his unnerving gaze at the screen again and continues, much in the same deadpan tone as before:_

"_You didn't actually end up finding out anything about me, did you? I was probably not the ideal candidate for such meetings and I feel I am correct in saying that you, like most other people, were intimidated by my lack of expression… not that you have any expression to speak of yourself. I freely admit that it was entertaining to witness your nervousness and your attempts to stay calm and collected, but rest assured in knowing that the compulsory written evaluation does not contain any sort of disdain for you. In actual fact, I'm slightly amazed that you didn't kick me out, like you really wished to do barely five minutes into our talk-"_

_A faint yapping noise in the background catches the boy's attention and he cuts off his words to scoop up his Siberian Husky puppy, who appears to be grinning at the camera. He briefly pets his dog on the head before finishing off his comment._

"_But nonetheless, you could've attempted to do a better job. As it is, though, I commend you for being able to withstand my persistent questions about your life for the hour I spent in your presence, and I wish you good luck in your endeavours. Please don't rip out the tape or do anything reckless to this device, because there are still four evaluations to go. Otherwise, that's it from me…"_

_He stands up and tucks the wriggling puppy securely into his arms, before he walks out and faintly calls for the next evaluator to come inside. Once again, the view is that of an empty locker room…_

* * *

To put things mildly, I was offended by what he had said, but I couldn't help but accept the harsh truth in his words. Sure, I knew that I had done a less than satisfactory job- heck, he managed to fill in my role perfectly with his quietly nosy questions and discomforting stares- but I hadn't thought he'd been that blunt; well, at least I now had something else that I could add to his sparse report. I can also freely admit that I feel shock and dismay at not being told that my patients had a written evaluation that contributed to my internship, and extreme relief at knowing that he hadn't displayed the candid thoughts he'd told me via the tape. Of course, I don't know whether I can trust him or not, but I'd like to think that I can judge people quite well and I have to pin this guy as an honest soul.

True to my initial thoughts, I'm quite exasperated by the negativity I can feel in his video evaluation of my efforts, and if I didn't really think him capable of such a trait, I was sure that certain comments were littered with sarcastic inflections. I could already envision my mental self ripping the tape to shreds and cackling maniacally at the destruction before sobbing over various cans of beer, but even in the comfort of my house I do not succumb to my supposedly 'base instincts'. Sadly enough, I heed Kuroko's parting words and continue watching the screen, awaiting the next evaluator of my efforts.

* * *

_Seconds after the legendary phantom player of the 'Generation of Miracles' has exited the room, the current Ace of Seirin High wanders into the room, along with what appears to be lunch. The armful of food Kagami Taiga is carrying in his arms is unceremoniously dumped to the ground, and he takes his time finishing off the sandwich in his arms. His loud munching echoes through the speakers and doesn't cease until he realizes the camera is still recording, but once he deems himself satisfied enough to begin talking, he launches into an even louder:_

"_What, Kuroko pulled me out of my lunch break and I was eating! If I'd known this thing was still on I would've asked him to stop it, but he disappeared… argh, you know how he is, disappearing and stuff. Yeah, well, um, hang on a sec, I've gotta go ask something first…"_

_A few seconds elapse as he jumps up from his seat and rushes to the door. There's a faint call of 'What am I supposed to be talking about again?' and a distinctive thudding noise that sounds a little too much like someone's head being it, before the second patient returns with a sizeable lump on his head. He curses and rubs at the bump for a while, and continues talking when he's done cursing:_

"_Right, so I have to talk about that appointment I had with you, it seems. God knows why I'm even doing this, but coach said I had to so whatever. So… I'll start by saying I'm sorry for all that crap I got on your table, and for all the angry shouting I did, and all those burger crumbs I left everywhere, because Kuroko said it probably made an awful mess when I told him about our meeting. Um, you didn't really feel professional but it was good, since I don't like seeing people who act like shrinks anyway, and you know that thing you said about me 'n Kuroko? Turns out you were right, so thanks for the advice-"_

_There is an odd movement behind the redhead and both he and I nearly get a heart attack when a sudden fist descends from nowhere and adds to the lump above his head. It doesn't take long before a certain blue-haired male makes his appearance in front of the camera again, and the evaluation ends with the two basketballers arguing as they exit the locker room…_

* * *

Clearly, it seems, _somebody_ is not quite intent on conducting a civilized conversation with a camera; then again, I don't really blame him, because if it were my mental self I would've walked straight in, sat down for a few measly seconds, and then stormed straight out. I mean, what is the point in talking about a meeting when, in all honesty, the meeting was nothing to talk about? Alright, the fact that I'm even defending this poor guy is saying something. Namely, it's saying exactly how little faith I seem to have in myself nowadays.

Now that I think about it, Kagami is probably the best patient I had, simply because he didn't cause much trouble for me (other than, of course, the cleaning I had to do of my office afterwards). It was actually quite fun teasing him about his obvious attachment to Kuroko, and watching his reactions occurring… um, point is, he was pretty good. Well, maybe Mitobe was better, until he wordlessly mentioned that he was unsure of his reason for being in my office in the first place, but otherwise, he was altogether manageable.

However, before I continue watching the rest of the evaluations, I realize that I don't exactly want to see the next appraisal… because it'll remind me of the all-too-raw defeat I had recently suffered at the incredibly large hands of Kiyoshi Teppei. For the first time in my life, I actually heed my mental self and drag my lazy behind off the couch, and pause the tape for the time being. Rather than staying slumped in the chair and continuing to passively digest the negative messages that will no doubt increase, I choose to spare myself the torture for the time being.

Actually, I don't take a break because I'm a coward, although… it is probably one of the contributing factors to 99% of my inability to finish degrees or take on jobs or anything remotely similar to an arduous long-term task. I don't tear my gaze away from the television screen merely because I'm too tired to stay in the couch, though that's a valid reason… if moving around as opposed to staying still counts as a valid reason to point to my laziness. No, the reason I've decided to postpone this…

…Is merely because I want that beer I've been craving for the whole week.

Well, I apologize for being an alcoholic, but I'm not truly apologetic, not really. That drink has been overdue ever since I was unfortunate enough to meet _any_ of my patients- actually, it's been in order since I chose this job on the pretext that 'it looked easier than the other choices'- so I guess, well, why not take myself up on that offer now? As well as that, my digestive system is pretty much on empty and my stomach is beginning to get more vocal that my mental self, so I might as well order some dinner while I'm at it.

Perhaps I'll steel myself for the rest of the video about an hour later (if that hour doesn't stretch into a day, week, month or year…), when I'm sufficiently drunk enough to be able to tune out whatever hurtful words might be thrown my way, or when I'm full enough to be lulled into a sense of passive happiness. Until then, it's about time I scour my fridge for something to drink…


	9. (E) Seirin High- II

**First Evaluation, Part Two: Seirin High**

As I'd expected from someone as lazy and unmotivated as myself, it takes quite a number of minutes for me to rustle up something that approximates to dinner, and by the time I'm done eating there's no way that I'm going to go back and watch the rest of the evaluations, unless I have something to steel what little nerves I seem to have left. Strangely enough, I also didn't manage to grab some alcohol to ease my systems before I bothered to eat, so I take myself up on my long-standing offer and nab a bottle from the depths of my freezer, before ambling back to my comfortable position on the couch. I'm a little displeased to find that my seat has cooled down, but then again, I don't expect it to be warm- after all, I live alone and I don't exactly have a fancy self-heating chair, so there' s no way that it'd be warm after I'd left it to cool for a little over an hour.

Cracking open the lid and wincing slightly as ice-cold beer seeps into my hands, I grumble at iciness of my hands and the liquid dripping off my arm before I finally bother to find some tissues to wipe myself off. When I'm done cleaning the mess on my arm and wrapping the beer bottle in some sort of towel I discover lurking underneath my armchair (because that's _totally_ hygienic… well, it's not as if I care so whatever), I finally get around to unpausing the video and watching the rest of the verbal nonsense those Seirin High basketballers choose to say about my job performance.

Well, let's continue down the merry path of depression…

* * *

_The locker room stays empty for a minute or so as faint noises crackle in the background, but soon enough the room is empty no more when an ashen-haired individual cracks open the door. As he locates the chair positioned in the middle of the room, he casts a benign smile onto the camera in front before taking a seat. The calming aura continues to flow through the video recorder and the silence shifts from discomforting to soothing as the third patient, Kiyoshi Teppei, awkwardly raises a hand to scratch at his nape, in a classic display of uncertainty._

_The silence flows from the screen and the speakers, interspersed by the faint breaths that the male is exuding, and just as another minute goes by the former Ace of Seirin finally summons up his voice and speaks. The deep rumble that resonates from the speakers begin with a sigh, before starting to form somewhat more coherent words:_

"_I should probably apologize for my rude entrance into your office, especially since you were asleep and I woke you up, but I was really glad that you decided to talk to me, even if you were internally annoyed at my interruption of your break. Also, I'm really glad that you took up my offer to play a one-on-one game on you, but I'm not going to go easy on you just because you mentioned that you weren't in peak condition~"_

_He pauses to chuckle to himself and ruffles his hair a little, before he continues:_

"_You're probably watching this later since Riko said she was going to give you the tape afterwards, but I just want to say that, whatever happens in the game, continue playing basketball because it seems like you really like the game, even though you didn't look very enthusiastic. The best thing about the sport is having fun, you know, so keep at it-"_

_Once again, he pauses, but this time the interruption comes not from himself, but from an indistinct shout outside. He half-turns, quizzical at the outburst, before the same muffled shouting repeats itself and he suddenly understands whatever is being said:_

"_Oh, my bad, I'm supposed to talk about the evaluation of your appointment. Well, I can't really say much since we didn't actually have a very 'professional' meeting, if you'd like to call it that, but since I didn't fill out one of those proper evaluation forms I'll just say what I would've put on there. I thought you did a pretty good job, because it was relaxing to be with you, and you seemed like a fun guy even though you didn't really show many emotions. What else… that's probably it, really. And once again, thanks for playing basketball with me~"_

_At these parting words, the incredibly tall male unfurls himself from the chair he had been sitting on for the entirety of his evaluation and stretches his body out. He reaches forward to do something to the camera but is stopped by yet another hidden shout, and with a quiet sigh he retracts his hand and leaves, in the same quiet manner that he entered the room…_

* * *

Tch, trust youngsters to act all carefree when they know that they're going to have certain victory; even if it was evident that I was going to lose, I'd thought that he would have the decency not to remind me about the game… but who am I kidding? Of course he'd mention it, seeing as he'd been looking forward to the match ever since he brought up the topic. It was a little annoying to see that he'd conveniently forgotten my attempts to refuse his offer, but I had to admit, at least his subtle reminders about the game were infinitely better than, say, if he'd attempted to rub things in. Not that it was any better, and not that I'd ever tell him that.

I generally have a deadpan expression even if I was excited, so for him to somehow read the so-called enthusiasm I had about our little basketball discussion was surprising- then again, he probably had experience reading expressionless faces from that blue-haired kid in their team. Although I still felt lingering amounts of irritation at his carefree manner and his easy tone, he was generally a nice guy so I guess it was alright for him to carry on. If he was a sardonic character like I sometimes was, then this evaluation might've been all the more unbearable.

Of course, his analysis of my capabilities as a sports counsellor crushed me a little, but I couldn't exactly blame him for his honest opinion either; it wasn't as if I was ever grilling him about his life or his mental state in the first place, and it wasn't like the meeting was official anyway. It was nice how he attempted to soften the blow of his thoughts by starting off with how I did a 'pretty good job' and how 'relaxed' and 'fun' the atmosphere was, but he really must be thick-headed if he didn't recognise that he himself was the cause for the relaxed tone of our meeting. Then again, I had already expected something like this so I can't really complain.

In any case, it cheers me up to think that I'm more than halfway through the evaluations and I take a deep swig at the bottle in my hand as I continue to watch the screen, partly in anticipation and partly in apprehension…

* * *

_Instead of a sole figure entering the locker room like previous times, two people squeeze their way through the door and amble towards the camera. The fourth patient, Mitobe Rinnosuke, moves out of the range of the video recorder and a soft creaking indicates his position on one of the benches, while his companion hops into the unoccupied chair in front of the camera. Offering a wide grin off to the side, no doubt at his silent friend, he nods a few times at some unspoken words that are being exchanged, before returning his attention to the recorder._

"_Hello, counsellor, you probably already know that my name's Shinji Koganei, but you can call me Koga if you want. Anyhow, since Mitobe's not really a good speaker he's gotten me to talk for him so… if I say something wrong then it's probably because my mind and mouth is running like it always is~ So first up, he wants to thank you for talking to him even though he doesn't talk, and listening to him going on about his family- wait, hang on a moment!"_

_A lowered voice echoes through the speakers and the questions- as they appear to be- continue for a few moments before Koga resumes his talking:_

"_Yeah, so turns out you could understand him even when he doesn't talk- you know, not many people can do that straight up- so he was a little surprised, like how I was. He's sorry for going to your meeting without actually having a reason… huh, he had no reason, what the hell… um, pardon my language! Anyhow, he's happy that you persisted with him and he just wanted to say that you're a pretty good counsellor and he wouldn't mind talking to you again. So… okay, that's it then~!"_

_He glances to his friend and smiles widely as he announces that the evaluation is over, and with more animated chattering the two friends exit the locker room. Just before the larger of the two walks out, though, he turns momentarily to the camera and offers a smile, and turns his head around as he exits the now-empty room…_

* * *

I've changed my opinion of this guy- apart from the honest but brash Kagami, Mitobe must be one of the nicest people I've ever counselled. Then again, considering that I've only had three official sessions and two unofficial ones, there's not much of a benchmark to compare him to, especially in regards to his team-mates and coach. I had actually been wondering if he would speak or just sit in front of the camera and express his words through his facial expressions, but I'm glad he chose his friend to help him speak. Otherwise, thanks to my slightly inebriated state, I might've ended up misinterpreting half the things he might've wanted to express.

It's probably not a good idea to have any more beer until this is over, since the faint buzzing in my head is starting to take over certain, more rational, components of my mind and I've yet to finish watching these videos. I place the beer bottle down on a discarded piece of newspaper, uncaring of the fact that I'll probably regret leaving a massive wet patch on the grey pages when I want to read from it again, and fix my eyes on the last of the evaluations as it rolls on my television screen…

* * *

_A few muffled groans come from behind the closed door of the locker room and are immediately followed by the loud crashing of the door. The fifth and final patient, Aida Riko, yells out something indistinct to whoever it is that is off-screen, before she slams the door and dumps herself into the chair. The Seirin High coach takes her time glaring at nowhere in particular and mumbling under her breath about 'that Bakagami' and 'slacking basketballers' before she seems to realize that all this is being captured by the video recorder in front of her. She blushes slightly and offers an apology, before she fiddles about with her school skirt and launches into her verbal evaluation:_

"_This was the reason I wanted to leave your office quickly- so I could grab all the people you met with and give you this evaluation video as a sort of thank-you for bearing with us. I'll just take this time to apologize for thinking that you were an intern and not the counsellor, and my abrupt manner with dealing with you- but it really is stressful dealing with the idiots I train and things just happened…"_

_Another muffled shout echoes from outside and the coach whips around to yell something that sounds suspiciously like profanities mixed with a threat, but she continues in a heartbeat, almost as if she hadn't cut herself off:_

"_You actually did a pretty good job trying to do what you had to do, even when I didn't co-operate at all… now that I think about it, you're a little bit like me, with our attempts to make others do what we think is best for them and then feeling unpleasant thoughts afterwards when they refuse to listen. Technically, I wasn't a patient so I didn't do a written evaluation, but before I go I'd just like to say thank you, for making that Bakagami try harder and for making Kuroko seem a little more human last training, because I was surprised and intrigued by your abilities so… thanks…"_

_Without saying anything else, the female coach rapidly stands up and smooths her skirt down, before she frowns at yet another muffled yell outside the door. After shouting something back, she carries on grumbling under her breath as she reaches forward, no doubt to switch off the camera. After a few seconds, the speakers crackle and static fills the screen…_

* * *

I lean back in my understuffed armchair and frown a little at its hardness, before my mind wanders back to what the coach had said. Surprisingly, she had complimented me on my skills, when I had been sure that she would be criticising them; after all, it wasn't as if she seemed to like my efforts very much. It's intriguing- in a good way, that is- that she considers me to be somewhat competent, and it restores what little faith I still have in myself. Actually, now that I think about it, it's nice to think that someone has some confidence in me… because I certainly don't have the amount that I used to have when I first started out.

If anyone had asked me how I'd felt about the job a week ago, I would've confidently said that this would be a breeze, and that my internship would be the easiest I'd ever done since I attempted to find something that suited me in life. Right now, though… I'm not sure anymore, to be honest; some things are hard for me to comprehend, like the majority of my life, but there are some things that give me comfort. It's hard to explain how this feeling is, but right now, all I can say is that I don't know _what_ to think of this sports counsellor thing anymore.

As I drink from my beer bottle and make a face at the lukewarm alcohol flowing down my throat, I continue to think about things, ignoring the black screen that idles in front of me and the sporadic noise that emits from the sleeping speakers. My thoughts drag me well into the night, but I guess that's not important, not right now at any rate.

Right now, what occupies my mind is the weekend and all its glorious repose…

* * *

_**A/N: **I know this doesn't really have anything to do with the story (and apologies for troubling everyone like this) but I've put up a poll on my profile regarding the continuation of this story, since I'm starting to lose motivation to write altogether... if it isn't too much trouble, please do leave your opinion on whether I should discontinue some of my ongoing stories or place my story ideas on hold... but until then, please look forward to the next chapter~_


	10. (B) The Life Of A Blogger- I

**First Break: The Life Of A Blogger (I)**

My weekend was pretty lackadaisical and, as expected, I spent my time doing nothing of productive value, unless attending various drinking invitations from old friends counted as something of worth. Well, technically speaking, my weekend wasn't _completely_ filled with mild hangovers and alcohol-driven highs, but there were two things, other than my uselessly addicting activities above, which I spent my weekends doing, during my recovery from all that liquor intake. I could probably waffle on at length about the topic that captured my interest this weekend, but I'll keep things short for the sake of my limited tendrils of sanity.

To put things simply, I discovered the wonderful life bloggers had. Yes, that's right, bloggers.

As a technologically backwards person, I was amazed that I had even stumbled upon the website that led to my thought-provoking adventure, let alone become involved in such a complicated task. For some odd reason, the art of sharing my life and its happenings online for the pleasure of getting feedback had never occurred to me as a task worth doing, but just a paltry few hours ago, I was doing just that- about my woes on being a sports counsellor, no less. I've got to admit, I didn't even know I could fall to such a level, but somehow, instead of downing the umpteenth beer in my depressive weekend, I found myself tapping rapidly away as words filled up the screen of my laptop.

Anyhow, here's how I ended up on that website to begin with…

* * *

_After drinking heavily for the past hour, and alternating between shot-glasses of vodka and large bottles of lager, my head was beginning to buzz pleasantly and I decide not to push my high alcohol tolerance to its incredibly tall limit- after all, in the very few instances when I have managed to get stoned from liquor intake, it took a day's worth of epic hangovers to get over the inebriated feeling. I was just beginning to ease into the half-dead state I normally drifted into after countless rounds of drinking when a soft ping made its way to my ear; for some odd reason, someone had decided to send me an email rather late at night, which was quite uncommon._

_Stumbling away from my comfortable armchair and draping myself over the table where my laptop was situated, I glare blearily at the glowing screen before me, and ghost a hand over the keyboard. Making a few lazy swipes in an attempt to open up my email inbox, it takes a few minutes and quite a number of mumbled curses before I manage to open up the dratted thing, but the email I open up is from an unfamiliar sender and contains the strangest information. By the time I blindly follow the terse instructions set in the message I finally realize that the signature below is that of my college's._

_Trust the stupid institution to send me something when I least want any contact with them._

_My grumblings cease when my slow-moving brain finally figures out exactly what's going on; for some unknown reason, the link attached to the email directs me to a universal blogging site, of which I've heard of, but never bothered joining. See, in my opinion, updating people about one's life is not only meaningless and rather self-centred, it also takes up too much time to continuously monitor and is just one of the numerous activities that I deem to be too troublesome for me to do. Unfortunately, I don't have a choice about whether I wish to express my life or not, because this just _happens_ to be a requirement of my course, so I sigh and get on with whatever I'm supposed to do._

_A few clicks here and there should suffice…_

* * *

I've got to admit, my initial misgivings were well-founded when it came to blogging; not only did a casual browse of the site reveal people aimlessly rambling on about the mundane features of their life, there were instances where their random insights on their boring lives caused entire arguments to spring up. Now, all I had to do was create some sort of 'blog portal' for my own useless insights into the peculiarities of my job, but honestly, I _still_ don't get the point of all this. Actually, scratch that- the lecturer probably sent me some sort of hoax email to get me to do these things… but knowing him, I'm going to have to follow his orders anyway, just in case this is some sort of legitimate exercise and he decided to send it to me in the hopes that I took it as a prank.

See, the point is that I don't get along very well with people- that fact isn't evident to the people who only spare me a cursory glance or only go as far to exchange greetings with me, but for those who have the 'honour' of getting acquainted with me, this becomes glaringly obvious. Half my life is spent relaxing and the other half is spent attempting to stay out of mainstream life, so any sort of social event is immediately cancelled on my calendar and any attempts to engage me in anything remotely related to strenuous activity is also dismissed- strenuous activity being anything that involves me walking for more than 5 minutes on length.

Long story short, this means that I have a horrible relationship with practically everyone I know in life, which extends to my family, those people unfortunate enough to consider themselves my friends, and my college peers/lecturers. It's for this reason that I generally miss out on notifications alerting me to such-and-such an event or the happenings regarding so-and-so, which means I tend to end up failing whatever course I've bothered to apply my limited efforts into. Ah, but I digress- this had nothing much to do with blogging, other than my musings regarding why I never learnt about this in the notification I received a week earlier.

In any case, I should note that I've received quite a few followers regarding my ramblings- which is odd, considering that I provide the scantest of details regarding my life. I've managed to incite a wide range of comments, varying from polite versions of 'you suck' to rather animated versions of 'this is entertaining' but for obvious reasons, I won't be relating what I wrote anytime soon; after all, one can simply find it by searching up my name. What I'll relate here, though, are the responses that I managed to receive from my pointless tales:

* * *

_I completed my very first blog at some ungodly hour when Saturday had morphed into Sunday, and due to my sleep-deprived nature and the sheer amount of alcohol I had it was safe to say that it wasn't the best piece of writing I had ever written. It was mostly clear of any basic errors, like spelling and grammar, but being a person that consistently scraped through English lessons I wouldn't be surprised if someone read through it and pointed out a mistake in every line. After all, it's not like I like to proofread my own writing or even bother to read it again- simply put, I consider that a waste of time and besides, it's not like I write all that much anyway so what's the point, really?_

_So naturally, I was surprised when I woke up this morning and received some other email notifying me of several responses to my blog. My first reaction was to ignore it- in my defence, I was barely awake and had thought the whole shenanigans I went through yesterday were merely dreams conjured up by some tired part of my mind- but for some inexplicable reason I clicked on the link and found myself staring at a range of responses. Obviously, I had forgotten to set the blog to 'private' (hopefully, it has that function so I don't get various emails notifying me of such-and-such a change) and I would probably have to do that later._

_But it probably wouldn't hurt to see what some sorry sod typed up about me, I suppose._

_**Tono wrote:  
**__I can assure you that sports counselling- your description of your job indicates to me as much- is not difficult, not unless you possess a very optimistic and lazy mindset. Perhaps you are better off not underestimating the people whom you psychoanalyse, and you will find your job to be a little more tolerable than you so pessimistically describe it as._

_**Casper wrote:  
**__Don't worry about how your job is faring at the moment; if you apply yourself well to the task I'm sure you can get a better result. What you've related here is quite funny and entertaining, and I hope to see more of your experiences in regards to your seemingly-troublesome job…_

_**USTiger wrote:  
**__Ahahaha, this seriously reminds me of the dude I saw a few days ago! Now that I think about it, you kinda remind me of him… but nah, you probably aren't, since you seem so much more fun than that other guy. Hey, hey, write more about your job and stuff, 'cause I can't wait to see what else your life throws at you, man! But keep and it and you'll succeed, 'kay?_

* * *

From what I've read, I can gather that the first two people are an enigma to me… but the final responder to my blog seems all too familiar, given the obvious name and the boisterous style in which he writes. I'm not sure why high-schoolers would trawl these sorts of sites to comment on random occurrences, but then again, I don't belong to the technological generations and thus I have no grasp on all these digitally-advanced things. To be honest, I didn't think the world was such a small place, but I've been proven wrong on many occasions and this is just one of the several in which I find out that I'm completely wrong, as always.

Generally speaking, it's a bit of a shock to find that Kagami Taiga guy on my blog, but at least I can take comfort in the fact that he has no idea of who I am- for the time being, at least. This get me thinking… might that Casper person be the ghost-kid? Probably not, though, considering that this person seems much too optimistic and encouraging to be the exact same person as the bluntly rude male that was my first patient. Also, who might that 'Tono' person be? Maybe _that's_ Kuroko Tetsuya, but then who would Casper be? In the end, the only thing I'm certain of is the fact that three sorry individuals have nothing better in life to do than comment on my blog.

I should also mention that there are now seven followers to my blog, but other than the three names of the commenters I've briefly mentioned, I know nothing of the other names. After all, who could possibly be 'Shadow_Stalker', 'Lollycon', 'LuckyStar' and 'Sunnyboy'?! I don't even _know_ why anyone, let alone _seven_ anyones, would want to bother following something as infinitesimally boring as me, but I guess that's their problem and not mine. Well, I've fulfilled my assignment for the time being, and that's all that counts- after all, the email mentioned I had to write a condensed blog of about a thousand words detailing my week's experience on the job, and that's exactly what I've done… albeit with horrendous descriptions regarding everything in general and several random thoughts popping up here and there.

Well, I would probably spend the rest of the day drinking my woes away, but I recently went to check my refrigerator and have discovered it to be empty- it seems that I've exhausted the extensive storage of alcohol I was positive I still had. Further inspections of my kitchen reveal that, not only do I have a serious liquor shortage, I also have a lack of edible substances in the house. So I guess my next order of business is to go find some food…

* * *

_**A/N: **Apologies for the late update; my social life decided to catch up with me and apart from various outings to which I was forced to attend, I went to a wedding (and am expected to go to a funeral as well). In any case, this chapter is a bit weird- it will add to the plot, but in what way remains to be seen- and anyone who can correctly guess who the unknown six bloggers are can have a cyber cookie for their efforts. For anyone that would like to contribute to the story's flow... would you like me to write about a possible reunion between the counsellor and Seirin High, or just move straight onto the next school's he's going to work at? I'll probably wait a day or so for anyone interested in having a say, but otherwise I'll be moving straight onto the story and, hopefully, I'll have the next chapter up soon..._


	11. (B) A Trip To The Grocer's

**Second Break: A Trip To The Grocer's**

My luck is probably the worst in the world, and I pretty much confirmed this fact a few hours ago, when I'd ended up going to the local store to pick up my usual list of groceries and found that, after years of operation… it had suddenly shut down. Actually, the staff had been telling everyone that the only greengrocer in my vicinity was going to close down due to financial difficulties or whatnot- which, to be honest, I find completely implausible, since greengrocers will always be in business- but I'd been ignoring that because they did something like this for a hoax a few years back. In any case, I found myself staring at the empty husk that used to be my greengrocer's and realized that, sadly, I was going to have to go find another place to do my food shopping.

So imagine my surprise when I found that the nearest store just _happened_ to be walking distance from Seirin High School. Well, technically, it's the second-closest one, but the closest one is about a half-hour's walk away from my house, in a place where none of the buses I catch go to; since I'm too lazy to walk an hour just to stock up on my week's intake of food, I opted for two ten-minute rides to and from the other greengrocer's. Yes, I know I don't ever want to see those kids again and by going there I might run the risk of seeing them again, but it's either braving a surprise meeting with those basketballers or slowly starve at home or, worse, having to walk _a whole bloody hour_ (pardon my language) to get food.

In any case, my idea of shopping for food is consisted of going inside the store, picking up whatever's on sale (and a few packs of beer, while I'm at it) and then rushing straight out; unlike most people, I don't find pleasure in strolling down endless aisles for hours on end. My pleasures in life consist of coasting through my years of existence without lifting a finger- when I can help it, that is- and raising my alcohol tolerance levels with the excess consumption of the drink- which I know I'll probably die from one day- but that's about it; shopping does not, in any shape or form, constitute the enjoyment I get from life. Long story short, I was supposed to spend less than an hour out of my house, including those pesky bus trips… but that's not what happened today.

No, instead of being able to get home and spend my Sunday in a manner that would make any religious personnel die from shock, I ended up being caught up in a series of unfortunate events. Generally speaking, I'd left home at about nine in the morning, so if all had gone to plan then I would be home by around ten in the morning; instead, I stumbled back through my front door at two in the afternoon, minus the all-important groceries that I'd gone out of my way to get in the first place.

Let me explain, in detail, _exactly_ what happened to me…

* * *

**Event #1: The Bus Broke Down**

As sad and generic as this sounds, the bus I was sitting on broke down- or, to be more exact, it crept down the road to a stop not too far from my house, sighed in a most disturbing manner, and then refused to pick itself up and move. No matter how much the bus driver swore at the ancient husk, and no matter how much the other passengers joined in the chorus of profanities echoing around inside of the public vehicle, the old thing refused to move from its final resting place. Of course, all I did was sit placidly in my seat and attempt to focus on anything but the loud noises hammering around inside my skull, so I wasn't of much help to the old thing either.

By the time a good half-hour had passed and practically everybody was ready to damn the bus company and tear the ancient metal shell to pieces, I'd pretty much given up on staying at this point to listen to the cacophonous vulgarities and, without too much fuss, I made my way to the open doors and stepped out. Of course, by the time I'd walked a few metres down the road towards my destination, I realized that not only had I wasted my money paying for a bus fare that will probably never be refunded, I was also on the way to grocer's _on foot_, and I was severely depressed at this point. I know this would probably count as that newfangled 'first-world problems' term that teens nowadays like to use, but I could probably care less about the origins of such a weird term when there was my current condition to deal with. Besides, it was approaching ten o'clock, and I was nowhere near my destination of the not-particularly-local greengrocers.

I had thought my salvation had come when I'd reached the next bus stop (about half a kilometre down the road… which took much, much longer than I'd expected) and a bus pulled over as soon as I'd gotten there, but appearances are quite deceiving. By now, I would've expected myself to have realized that not all things in life are perfect- if anything, everything in life is flawed in various ways- but I guess I just don't learn, do I? Which brings me to my second calamity…

* * *

**Event #2: An Old Kouhai Appeared**

I'd just gotten on the bus after negotiating my fare (thankfully, I didn't have to pay it again, as the bus driver had seen the collapsed vehicle down the road and then taken pity on me and my story) when I heard a rather enthusiastic greeting come my way. At first, even though many people stared strangely around as they attempted to figure out whose name was being called out, I had thought that it was a hallucination brought on by my dazed mind, but unfortunately that wasn't the case, especially when the shouts became louder and more insistent. By the time I finally acknowledged the fact that I had been singled out for some twisted form of humiliation, other people had caught onto that fact too, and when I'd made my way to the girl unreservedly greeting me I was all too aware of the annoyed stares being levelled my way.

Although I was quite sure that my senior high life was socially lacking and I was rarely found in any part of school that was associated with a large amount of people, I had somehow managed to gain a small group of people that stuck with me throughout those three painful years of learning. I should probably mention that most of them were my younger sister's close friends and were the lucky (or unlucky) ones who were invited to our house for my more social sibling's house events, and that they spent quite a lot of effort and time attempting to become friends with me. Anyhow, the point is that the girl I was currently sitting next to was my sister's former kouhai and, somehow, had appeared after quite a number of years to end up sitting next to me on the bus.

From what I can remember- which, by the way, is pretty limited- her name, or the name that she insisted on me calling her, was 'Koga-chan'. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm wondering why I managed to recall her name after all these years without her telling me; apart from the distinctly cat-like shape of her mouth and her bubbly friendliness, there was nothing much to set her apart from the other friends that my sister made. Maybe it's because she reminds me of someone… but I can't quite recall who it is.

Anyway, the problem wasn't with meeting her, but in how she spent the bus trip with me. See, instead of doing an awkward greeting and staring resolutely out the window, like most people end up doing with me, she ended up talking for the entirety of the bus trip- now, not only was I annoyed by the time I left the bus, I'm sure that half the people inside were annoyed too. Of course, leaving someone as outgoing as this girl wasn't going to be easy under any circumstances, so…

* * *

**Event #3: I Missed My Stop**

In my defence, I couldn't see out the window and I was unfamiliar with the adjoining town- after all, it's not like I go into the neighbouring suburbs for kicks- so I ended up getting off at a stop that was nowhere near the grocer's, in front of a fast-food chain that was popular around my area. The only reason that I got off was because I couldn't stand her talking anymore, but as luck would have it, I'd gotten off about three stops before my actual one and, to a tired and annoyed person like me, three stops was just too much to walk. Unfortunately for me, it just so happens that the female that'd been bugging me for the past five minutes was _also_ getting off at Maji Burger's.

Now, if I had succumbed to my mental self at any point during my trip, I would've thrown myself (or her) out of the bus while yelling profanities at the top of my voice, or told her to 'shut the hell up' or something like that and revelled in the negative response that she would most probably give me. Sadly, since I was still in control of myself, the only hint that I was tired of everything- especially her endless stream of jabbering- was the dull look I was sure was in my eyes and the slight droop of my shoulders. She probably didn't see any of these signs, as most unobservant people would never bother reading my slight bodily expressions anyhow, so as I attempted to get my bearings in the unfamiliar suburb and seem interested in her chatter, I suddenly met my fourth problem…

* * *

**Event #4: My Patients Appeared**

If anyone is acquainted with the term 'Murphy's Law' (which, generally speaking, is that one where anything that can go wrong _will_ go wrong) then they would probably identify with my situation as a perfect example of that wise saying. The one thing that I hadn't wanted was to meet with those Seirin basketballers again, but of course, whatever supernatural force looking down on me was probably more intent on ruining my life than make it better, so I ended up getting exactly what I didn't want to get… which just so happened to be seeing those kids again.

I should probably mention that the time was about ten in the morning when I got off that bus at found myself in front of that fast-food restaurant; basically, if everything had gone to plan then I would've been at home, relaxing on my weekend and doing whatever usually comes to mind when I'm relaxing. Instead, I found myself being deafened by the ear-piercing greeting the cheerful female next to me gave to an indistinct group of high-school boys, and I ended up face-to-face with the very person that reminded me of Koga-chan- the male with the same cat-shaped mouth and bubbly personality, who was also called 'Koga' and, funnily enough, was the younger brother of that girl.

Had it just been the two Koganei siblings with me at this point in time, then I might've ended up actually buying those groceries and slipping back home before long; unfortunately, my luck was such that the whole Seirin basketball team, including their coach, also made an appearance. It turns out that they'd come from some sort of training session and that they decided to go to Maji Burger's for a meal- because somehow, their favourite spot to hang out just _happened_ to be where I was- so, instead of getting helpful directions to the grocer's and being on my way, I ended up sandwiched between a glass window and that Power Forward.

The only person who could read my discomfort was probably that blue-haired male seated opposite me, but the only thing I could sense from him was slight amusement, which served to annoy me even more. Sure, his amusement could've been directed to the antics of his team-mates, who were acting in a most foolish manner throughout the hour or so I ended up spending in there with them, but I was sure the half-hidden glint in his eye had nothing to do with the ridiculous puns that one of their members kept on making, or the nonsensical tales that everyone swapped, or even from the stupendously gluttonous attitude that the redhead beside me had. Maybe it was just my paranoia springing up at that time, but I was quite sure that each and every one of them could tell that I was on edge the whole time, and they took some sort of perverse pleasure from my suffering.

In any case, it was around midday when we stumbled out of the fast-food chain. By this time, I was beginning to get hungry (because there was no way that I was eating any of that greasy material they sold in there) and my tiredness levels were skyrocketing, but my torture hadn't ended. No, there was one final activity that I had to go through before I was mercifully sent on my way…

* * *

**Event #5: Sight-Seeing**

I'm not even going to ask how those brain-dead individuals thought that I had come to the vicinity for some lame sort of sightseeing tour, but I ended up being dragged by various individuals to their favourite places, from the crowded outdoor courts where most of them indulged in games of street basketball, to the arcade where the first-years enjoyed wasting money on pointless forms of gaming, and everything else in between. Although I ended up learning much more about the town than I would ever know (or want to know, for that matter), I ended up hating every single bit of my enlightenment session.

Generally speaking, I like learning about things that I would probably never experience or know of- there's just something intriguing about the world that makes me want to learn everything about it. Granted, I'm a lazy bastard that most people could imagine being at the bottom of the grade, but I was actually quite smart in my youth… although I can't really say the same about my position these days, thanks to the introduction of all sorts of strange technology and newfangled things. Well, the point is that, if it was anytime other than the weekend, if I was in any mode of transport that didn't involve the strenuous use of my legs, and if my companions were people I actually liked spending time with, then I would've enjoyed it. But it was the weekend, I was walking places, and I was with a group of people I could safely describe as annoying, so it was obvious that I would get no sense of enjoyment from this venture.

There were a few good points about meeting them, though; for one, I was able to see a little more about my patients' personalities and all those other things that sports counsellors like me are supposed to write about, so I guess the trip helped my job out. As a general rule, I dislike mixing work with leisure, but this didn't quite count as leisure and was more of a work-like obligation, so it was with this mindset that I silently analysed my patients. I'm quite sure that nobody noticed- other than the phantom kid, of course, but he doesn't really count- so I suppose it was fine, and most of them were also under the impression that I was enjoying myself in their company, so it was a twisted sort of win-win situation for me…

* * *

Before I end up rambling like those Koganei siblings, or succumbing to my mental self and exploding from pure anger, I'll just answer the question that has been worrying my mind ever since I began this pointless recount; if this has nothing to do with my job and is something that I'd much rather forget, then what the hell am I doing reliving my memories? I guess, to answer that, I'm probably high on the alcohol I guzzled down as soon as I came back from my actual shopping trip (which, by the way, took place after I spent an hour moping at home), and… I don't really _have_ a reason, do I…?

Well, I'm sorry for wasting everyone's time- and especially my own- with this recount, but I guess I didn't want to think about the resumption of my internship tomorrow. Instead of feeling overly confident, like I had been before I rocked up at Seirin High, I'm currently feeling absolutely horrible, because if my first week of being a sports counsellor is how the rest of the month will go then I'll probably be dead from stress and pent-up anger before my trial job even _finishes_.

From what I heard about my next school, it has all of its sports teams- including its basketball one- competing at a national level, so I'm assuming that all the people are a little more well-mannered than the ones I found at Seirin. This may not be the case, of course, but I do like to keep my hopes up. I've also heard that there's a famous model in the basketball team, as well as a few other top-notch people, so I guess I have a reason for keeping my hopes up.

After all, how bad could Kaijou High be, compared to the wacky people attending Seirin High…?

* * *

_**A/N: **Well, this was a bit of a fun chapter explaining the counsellor's past as well as messing around with him a little~ Anyhow, as people might've probably gathered, the next series of psychoanalytical meetings will be with Kaijou High, so do stay tuned for their meetings. Otherwise, the only thing I've got to say is that I'll most likely end up updating this weekly instead of the current pace I've been maintaining, since I'll be in my final year of school in a few days' time, so apologies for that... oh, and thank you to all the readers that allowed this fanfiction to make it past 1000 views~!_


	12. Kise Ryouta

**Patient Six: Kise Ryouta**

Well, it's been a while since I've written in this journal- about four days, to be exact- and the pen feels horribly unnatural in my hands. The only things that have really felt comfortable in them these past few days were the plastic handles of my shopping bags and the round bottles of beer I've been guzzling down, and a pen is nowhere near those two things. At this point in time, I don't really care about whether a sports counsellor is supposed to be a mild alcoholic or not, though I'm quite sure that whoever reads this later on will never allow me to graduate due to my countless failures in attempting to psychoanalyse people, but I don't think I care anymore. All I can think about is how much my head hurts, and about how much I wish I hadn't been so naïve when I'd thought 'Oh hey, this looks easy' and then signed up for this job.

If the poor reader of my thoughts and my 'counselling reflections' is wondering why I'm feeling so down in the dumps at the moment, I could give countless reasons to contribute to the answer, none of which are pleasant or even mildly tolerable for a human being. For one, Mondays are not one of my favourite days and for another, I spent last night staring at the ceiling and contemplating the meaninglessness of life; at this point in time, I wouldn't be surprised if the future me gets a phone call about being forcefully admitted to general counselling sessions. In any case, the main reason for my horrible mood is because of my first basketball-playing patient at Kaijou High, the school that I was landed with in the second week of my internship, and despite whatever I might've thought beforehand I now know that my life couldn't possibly get any worse.

Before my mental self lures me into the proverbial pit he's dug in the confines of my mind, I'll explain the inauspicious start that heralded my torture-filled appointment…

* * *

_I have to admit that the facilities at Kaijou High are luxurious in comparison to those at Seirin High; not only is the room larger and my allotted table and chair more expensive-looking, the cafeteria looks wonderful and the food there tastes even better. The muffin I munched on in lieu of a proper breakfast at home was simply delicious, and as the fluffy texture faded away from my mouth, it made me think about whether the basketballers here are better than those at my previous school._

_My mind must've wandered for a while because I'm on a completely different train of thought when I roused myself enough to realize that whoever I'm supposed to meet is late. This must be the first time that I've ever had anyone arrive late and, as a strictly punctual person myself, I'm already starting to feel rather annoyed at my patient. I ran over my short brief on the male to kill some time, but I've read so much about him already that the lines ceased to become interesting quite a while ago, and I ended up with blurred lines overtaking my vision._

_The first indication of my patient's arrival was the faint screaming I heard off in the distance, while I was in the middle of wondering why the lines in my vision were turning into strange inky snakes. I faintly recall reading something about my patient being a successful model as well as a member of that 'Generation of Miracles', but the blockade in my mind refused to allow me to remember why screaming would have anything to do with my patient. I was shown why moments later, though, when the ground rumbled in a most disturbing manner and, before I could even hope to dive under the table and assume the worst, the door flew open with a loud crash._

_All my mind could process at the time was a something distinctly yellow being launched at me before I was knocked onto the ground. This was followed, moments later, by a stampeding herd of crazy females, and the next few minutes were spent attempting to kick the crazy fangirls out while the object of their interest clung pathetically to my leg, wailing incoherently above all the noise. When I had finally managed to restore order to my room, I was startled out of my mind when my patient extricated himself from my leg and stood up calmly, like nothing had happened. As I continued watching the blonde male dust himself off and rearrange his school uniform, I was shocked out of my mind when he flashed a striking smile at me before sunnily chirping:_

"_Thanks for helping me out there, ojii-san~!"_

* * *

Once again, I have been called an old man and once again, I should mention that being about ten years older than someone does not, in any shape or form, indicate that I am an 'ojii-san'. I know that I look mature for my age, despite my short height, but that doesn't mean that I am old. Then again, I've probably lived nearly twice the age of these kids and, since I get to call them 'kids' as well, I guess we're even. That doesn't mean that I like being referred to as a senior though.

The problem I have with this so-called kid, otherwise known as Kise Ryouta, is the fact that he was unable to save himself from his own fangirls. I can understand that, under pressure, it may be hard to repel a group of insane females, especially if they're intent on placing your general integrity in some sort of danger, but surely he must be used to it by now; from what I've read, he's been a model for quite a while so he must've had quite a large contingency for a long time. This fact, along with the calmness in which I perceived him to possess when he realized that all the fuss was over, was enough to annoy both my physical and mental self.

Anyhow, from what I gauged from this male on first appearances, I could not help but dislike this boy; despite the report I had read and re-read mentioning that he was somebody with a loveable and friendly disposition, I could hardly imagine myself liking someone like this anytime soon. At that point, I was quite sure that, even if he was as friendly as the paper claimed him to be, he wouldn't be able to shake me out of my antisocial nature, but I guess I was proven wrong later.

Let me try to tell you what I mean…

* * *

_With the blonde male in the opposite seat and with myself in the comfortable leather chair that my room has granted me, the atmosphere has returned to a state far more normal than a few minutes ago, when stampeding females were attempting to ruin my office. It was with interest and a slight sense of disdain that I noted the male fidgeting with his fingers, but before I could do anything along the lines of asking him to stop, he raised his head and gave me a nervous smile before asking:_

"_Um, did Kasamatsu-senpai think I was mentally unstable or something…?"_

_This question threw me for a moment as my mental self openly gawked at the fidgeting male across from me; what was I supposed to say to a question like that? Not only did I not know who the teen was referring to, I was made aware of the fact that he found me to be like a regular counsellor, of the nosy sort that pokes into other people's business and makes them feel worse than before. I felt rather offended by this, for obvious reasons, but perhaps this male is just an airhead and he has issues reading the large-print on the contract I know he must've signed for him to have this appointment with me. Either that, or he was under some sort of pressure, as he seemed to indicate, when he signed the paper and agreed to meet with poor old me._

_As much as I dislike the blonde, I feel obliged to answer his question and put him out of his misery and, with a quiet (and hopefully reassuring) shake of the head, I answered:_

"_Sports counsellors aren't normal counsellors- all I do is try and see how sport affects people's lives and their mindset. I don't ask you life questions and attempt to see whether you'd be more fitting in a mental institution or not-"_

"_Oh, so I'm not crazy after all~! That's a relief to know~"_

* * *

Strictly speaking, he didn't make me like him any better- if anything, I'm quite convinced that he is merely an airhead with pretty looks and some sort of hidden ability in basketball, like the phantom kid and his passing- but his clueless nature was simply amusing. Perhaps, if I were female, I might even refer to his childish nature as 'endearing', but I am not female and I do not hold such strange sentiments, hence I shall stick to my description of his oblivious nature as 'entertaining'. Anyhow, it was actually quite fun to poke fun at him for his misgivings and I was rather regretful of the frequent instances when my more rational nature appealed to me, and I left off amusing myself to ask him the questions required for my job.

From the questions I asked of him, though, I was able to construct an idea of how he perceived himself in sport; despite his attempts at referring to himself as 'the weakest of the Generation of Miracles' at innumerable occasions, he was obviously a good player, especially if he was able to have so much media coverage of his basketball and modelling career. I'm guessing he's either overly humble or he just happens to have a bad sense of self-confidence, but I've heard that he can get quite self-assured in the game. In terms of my job, I could possibly view him as someone with a good balance in terms of their sporting life and their general life, and as much as I might not want to admit it, he seems to have the perfect lifestyle- his academic records indicate that, despite his busy work schedule and his fame, he manages to gain good marks, and his social life, from what I've read, is not all that lacking either.

To be honest, he seems to be the total opposite of me, and I've got to say that, for a person I started off disliking intensely, I'm now a grudging admirer of his lifestyle.

What I find intriguing, though, is the fact that he seems nothing like the other Generation of Miracles member that I've met so far; Kuroko isolates himself as much as Kise draws people to him, and the two couldn't have more different approaches to life and their part in it. The reason I connected the two together was because of his constant reference to the blue-haired male and his high praises of 'Kurokocchi', and also due to the conversation that took place halfway through our meeting…

* * *

_The long-winded manner in which Kise rambles on is slightly annoying… and that's putting it nicely. While my mental self took the liberty of burrowing down a hole and covering up his ears so he could maintain his sanity, my physical self stared disinterestedly at the male opposite me- after all, there was nothing else I could do in this situation. He must've noticed that my attention was shifting away from him at this point, because he abruptly stopped, poked my cheeks with a slender finger, and pouted childishly, before whining:_

"_You're not even listening to me, are you?"_

_Well, what could I say to that direct analysis of my glazed eyes and my bored demeanour? Seeing as I couldn't argue with him, I kept silent and allowed him to continue whining:_

"_I thought you would listen to me, but you really _are_ like Kurokocchi in every way…"_

_Once again, I was left feeling unamused at my comparison to the ghostly figure of that kid. Not only had most of his team-mates thought that I bore an uncanny resemblance to the emotionless male, his former team-mate was comparing him to me as well. However, as indignation surfaced in my mind, so too did a sense of curiosity- did this person know anything about the male and, if he did, would he be able to provide information about him that would contribute to my report? Since I didn't have enough on Kuroko and I had plenty on Kise, I decided that, with the time left, I might as well attempt to get some information about him._

"…_How am I like Kuroko?"_

"_I thought you'd never ask~"_

* * *

The conversation quickly turned to his former team-mate, as well as the rest of the team; it turns out that Kaijou High had battled Seirin High a number of times, in both formal and informal matches, so he had plenty of experience with the other team. It was also quite obvious to me that he enjoyed playing matches with them, despite his losses to the newer team, and it was due to his enthusiasm for the players and his close analysis of them that I was able to gain a lot of information of some of the players. Granted, most of it is probably biased and he might've been making things up on the spot -there was quite a lot of information he gave and nobody in their right mind would know the things he did about some of them- but it was better than nothing and so I recorded it down.

Interestingly enough, conversation soon steered towards his other members, and because I felt that there was no harm in recording down his analysis of his former team-mates and current team-mates, I recorded those down as well. By the time he was done waffling on about everyone he knew, I was almost out of paper and my hand was ready to find itself a new owner, but it was all helpful facts about other basketball players so I guess I should be thankful he bothered to share his knowledge with me. Now that I look back on my notes, though, I realize that some of the comments he gave me had nothing to do with basketball, like Kuroko's love of vanilla milkshakes and Kagami's ability to finish several pounds of steak in a small space of time, but nonetheless I must admit that it was entertaining to talk to him.

Before I end my journal-writing and head off to lunch, I should probably mention the odd occurrence that happened as we parted ways. Well, it was weird enough that I didn't notice we were half an hour overtime, but this was stranger than that. More specifically, it had to do with his parting words and the implications it had for me…

* * *

_It was to my utter shock that I was told, by the blonde no less, that our appointment had gone overtime by a half hour- even if the clock was behind my back that didn't mean that I had an excuse to postpone the end of my psychoanalysis of the male in front of me. I had gotten up to apologize, but before I could even hope to say what I wanted to say, Kise patted my arm consolingly and waved away my attempts at delaying him, before he happily replied:_

"_I had fun talking to you, so it's alright that I was kept behind~"_

_Even as he finished talking, I saw him skipping over to the door, but before I was left alone in my office, he turned back and_ winked_ in my direction, before he added in a mischievous tone:_

"_I hope to read all about your thoughts on me on your blog soon~!"_

_Without another word or a chance for me to collect my scattered thoughts, he gave a parting wave and flitted through the door, before slipping away to wherever his classes were supposed to be held. This time, I willingly succumbed to my mental self as I continued to stand in frozen shock…_

* * *

Not only did Kise happen to know I had a blog on my sports counselling experiences, it was quite clear that he'd also read some, if not all, of my comments regarding everyone. I take back what I said about his affable nature; obviously, I had underestimated these Generation of Miracle kids, because they were all just a rotten bunch of people. I had thought the uncomfortable bluntness of Kuroko had been bad enough, but now I had a two-faced stalker in the form of Kise, and right now all I can think about is whether I might have the misfortune of meeting another of these crazy individuals.

Right now, I don't think I can handle thinking about whether my next schools might have any of these whacko 'Generation of Miracle' kids, so instead of ruining my appetite by scaring myself I think I'll go and get some of that food from the cafeteria I saw earlier. Besides, I still have an appointment in the afternoon that I need to prepare for, so now's not the best time to contemplate on the proverbial pit opening up beneath me. If I can't handle it anymore, I guess I could always hand in my retirement form for this course and move onto another one, but I would rather not be a coward and back out of my internship now.

After all, it's only the second week and I've just been unlucky in getting these two crazy schools.  
There are only about four other schools that I need to visit, and I'll be done-  
Whoa, hang on a moment… my internship's longer than a month?!

…Yep, this is going to be a _long_ 'month', isn't it…

* * *

_**A/N: **So I realized that, for the counsellor to have the time to go see all the Generation of Miracles, he would either have to do two schools in a week or he'd have to go for more than a month... and I decided to choose the latter and thus make him go through more torture. Anyhow, the chapter was updated earlier because it was finished earlier, so here it is. Until the next update, thanks for reading and I hope to update this within the week, so stay tuned readers~_


	13. Moriyama Yoshitaka

**Patient Seven: Yoshitaka Moriyama**

Being reminded of the unexpected lengthening of my job did nothing to make the day go by any quicker, and the afternoon crawled by with the speed of a crippled snail… which is saying something, especially when most horrible days tend to stretch out at a much faster pace. Despite my attempts to cut back on my general intake of alcohol I swear I'm going to end up with an irreparable drinking problem by the time this internship is over- that is, if I haven't already decided that suicide would be a more appealing option than drinking myself into constant oblivion- but I should probably stop writing about this before the reader dismisses me as a nut case and decides to fail me. Yes, I'm sure I'll probably fail this course anyway, even if this journal was simply something that my lecturer cooked up to make my life more miserable, but I'd rather increase what little chance I have of getting a job in this department- even if it means I must persevere with writing comments in here.

However, this is beside the point of what I really should be writing in here, so I'll continue on that lengthy tangent about my pessimistic outlook on life when I've nothing better to do in my spare time. Luckily enough for me, my second patient at Kaijou High turned out to be marginally better than most of the other patients that I've had the _honour_ of seeing, but he wasn't all that much better than the others. Actually, now that I think about it, all I've been getting are male patients- which is almost to be expected, since I'm a sports counsellor for basketball and all- and I'm wondering when I'll ever get a female one, but that, again, is not what I should be commenting on. The coach for Seirin was female, I know, but that doesn't mean she was an actual patient.

The reason I've raised the issue of gender in my patients is because of the singularly startling comment that I was subjected to as soon as the next male walked into my office. I guess I should admit that I'm very easily influenced by other people's words, but I've yet to find a person that can be subjected to the various insults (or comments, depending on one's interpretation of the situation) and not be in the least affected by them. If someone does happen to find a person like that then they should check whether the alleged person is a typical human being or some sort of sociopath, but until that happens I'll cut the crap and get onto what I have to write for myself…

* * *

_After all the emotional stress I'd received at the hands of that Kise person, lunch was a welcome distraction that allowed me to satisfy my body without resorting to toxic drinks. I must say, the egg sandwiches and choc-chip cookies that I was able to nab before the students stormed the cafeteria were simply delicious, and I'm still attempting to lick the crumbs off my fingers when a faint knocking noise reaches my ears._

_My appointment with the next patient, a male by the name of Yoshitaka Moriyama, is not supposed to be until a half-hour from now, so I dismiss the intrusive noise as a possible figment of my imagination and get back to what I was doing. I had just taken out the documentation on Moriyama when the male in question slid into the room, but before I could hope to raise some sort of concern at his early arrival I was startled by the other's dejected lament:_

"_Ah, I thought there would be a pretty young lady chatting to me for an hour, but alas it is not so…"_

* * *

I have been told that my name is rather ambiguous when it comes to gender categorization, but I hadn't been thought of as a female since my first year at university, when the very first lecturer I ever had thought I was a transsexual when I'd answered to my name. I'm not sure how this person was placed under the belief that I was of the fairer sex, but I guess I can't really fault him for thinking I was- which gives me slightly greater motivation to change my name in the near future- but that was not the issue that annoyed me in this instance.

Once again, my age had been brought into the question… but instead of flaming about it for the umpteenth time, I think I'll skirt over the matter at hand. It's not that I'm suddenly a mature adult that has come to terms with aging, it's just that I'm too tired of the whole 'being an elderly member of society' issue to sustain an argument that nobody listens to anyway, so if I need a reason for my change of heart then laziness is just as valid an excuse as any. I don't care much for my appearance anyhow so I'm fine with him believing that I'm some ugly old man, but the truth is that nobody I know likes to be labelled as such a demeaning term, and I'm among the people that fit this category.

I guess my mistake was to do anything other than kick the student out of my office until his time had come for the meeting to commence. In my defence, I was visibly annoyed at the threefold insult that the other had thrown my way, but I should've known better than to engage in an argument. Now that I think about it, his words were just an unconscious outburst regarding his expectations in his appointment with me, but these thoughts came too late for my past self. I should've probably acted in a different (and perhaps more dignified) manner, but alas my mental self was a little more influential on my person than usual and I was just a little irate, so I suppose my actions are justified.

That is, if irrational activities could ever be described as 'justified' in any sort of circumstance…

* * *

_As a person with a certain sense of pride, I was thoroughly offended by my patient's comment, to the point where my physical self willingly submitted to the notions my mental self was displaying in the confines of my head. After I'd adopted a very chilling demeanour and risen from my seat to close the door behind my semi-unexpected visitor, I leant in so I was face-to-face with the unfortunate individual, before I appraised him at a close distance. It intrigued me to see that he was too busy chatting about his failed expectations to pay me any mind, but he soon realized the situation that he was currently in, especially when I asked in the iciest tone I could muster:_

"_You're free to leave if you do not find me to your liking…"_

_However, instead of showing surprise at my proximity, or even fear at my presence (which I have been told can be _very_ frightening under special circumstances), the male simply stared me straight in the eye and reciprocated the look I'd been giving him. Just as I'd had enough of him mocking- or supposedly mocking- my deadpan expressions, his eyes took on a strange gleam as he exclaimed:_

"_I meant no offense when I thought aloud… but you know, if you were a lady then I would definitely play any amount of basketball games for your hand! It's not an everyday occurrence to find someone as spirited as you, Mr Counsellor!"_

_At this point in time, I was all for embracing my mental self and incapacitating him as revenge, but being a person that would prefer to live life out of the metal bars jail had to offer, I restrained myself for the time being. With an effort that I was sure was visible to my patient, I drew myself back as well and forced through the rage-induced block in my throat:_

"_That's lovely to know… now, if you'd like to begin your appointment with me, then that would be greatly appreciated…"_

* * *

I'm not sure why the writer of Moriyama's report didn't bother to mention the male's fixation with women in general, but I'll be sure to add that to my report later, and then underline it several times to convey the message that this was the person's singularly distinct trait. It wouldn't have surprised me if someone casually informed me of his mentally unstable state, but as I conducted the meeting I soon found out that he was nothing more than a ladies' man, in the strictest sort of sense. Any topic that I deigned to raise with him eventually meandered along to his favourite topic of discussing the opposite gender, but it confused me to see the extent of his fixation.

I have known quite a number of people who will profess to do anything and everything when it comes to impressing the fairer sex, but when the time came to prove their words I was shown that all their beliefs were merely hot air. This person, on the other hand, aimlessly conversed about his selfless acts for women and the deep, undying love he bore for them, but he said everything with such a casual tone that I was half-convinced of his honesty. There was no doubt to his sincerity- the limited amount of people I knew who had such palpable obsessions shared the same sort of fervour that he had in his voice- but there was no discernible reason for him to be so considerate towards women. All his answers to my questions indicated that he was a healthy individual who received plenty of exercise, but it shed no light whatsoever on his romantic life.

As the appointment continued, I became grudgingly curious about his romantic life in regards to his sport, which happens to be the other passion he seems to have, and the more I skirted the topic the more I became curious about it, to the point that I became absolutely determined to confirm my suspicions about him. If he was such a ladies' man, then surely his reason for playing the sport would be to impress women… but I knew of nobody that would harbour such impure motives in regards to any sort of passion, and so my mind continued to spin throughout our talking. At one point, I believe I slipped up and asked him about his motivations outright, but it turned out to be better than I had expected when I was given a response to my horribly blunt question…

* * *

_If I hadn't been excessively aware of his tendencies towards women in general, I would've passed off the Shooting Guard as an average sportsman; unfortunately, it just so happened that he, like all my patients before him, had some sort of quirk that directly affected his sporting life. Throughout my conversation with him, I couldn't help feeling that he didn't have as much of an interest as he claimed he had in the demanding sport, and it got to the point that the feeling manifested itself in my increasingly-personal questions regarding his interest in basketball._

_Being a person that likes to come off as professional, I attempted to word my questions in a manner that wouldn't unwittingly reveal my curiosity about his motivations behind basketball, but it got to the point that I could no longer sustain the façade and still hold any hope of fulfilling my curiosity. The questions that I had left were of no great importance- or so my reasoning would have me believe- and I still had plenty of time to ask them, thanks to the other's extremely early arrival to my office, so with a silent apology to whichever random supernatural being above I pointedly asked:_

"_What exactly is your motivation for playing basketball? From what I understand, you could pick whichever sport you liked and all your tendencies could be fulfilled in them…"_

_My question clearly threw off the person opposite me, if the narrowing of his eyes was anything to go by. Of course, he could've just been squinting at me to see if I was insane- which was what my mental self took his reaction to be, judging from his rather annoyed glare back- but before I could determine why he was doing whatever he was doing, he reverted to a very serious expression as he replied:_

"_Any sport would probably have any amount of women watching, but it just so happens that basketball is the greatest sport when it comes to getting a lady's attention. Have you seen our school's ace, Kise? Tons of ladies flock to him! Now, not that many things I've seen in life can get a guy such as myself that sort of success, so I guess that would be my motivation to play the game"_

_While I sat in stunned silence, both amused and annoyed at the odd male's answer, I was not left to my thoughts for long before he intruded into my thoughts and added:_

"_Were you expecting something else more noble, like 'it gets me good grades' or something like that? Well, sorry, that's really a stupid reason to play basketball, so I went with my honest response…"_

* * *

The irony of the situation was that he didn't seem to know exactly how stupid his own response would've sounded to the general person; sure, getting good grades was a really dumb reason for someone to commit three years of their life to, but surely there were better ways to gain the favour of a female. Perhaps my view on this issue is highly archaic, but from what I know, women tend not to like someone simply because they excel in a sport- rather, the fickle beings like men because of their looks or simply because of shallow praises that they receive from them. I would've told the unfortunate basketball player of my candid opinion, were it not for the fact that I was too lazy to talk any more about the subject and were it not for his obvious belief in his own convoluted explanations.

I would express more of the Shooting Guard's frightening complex in regards to women, but I'm sure I've covered that enough in the report I have yet to finish off and attach to this journal. Now, if I had no idea of his completely obsessive interest towards females I would concede that this was a level-headed individual with a healthy interest in sporting, but as it stands I cannot do anything but admit to his mild insanity. His tendency to connect every aspect of his life to women, though, does not affect his general health, and since I happen to be a sports counsellor that should really be focusing on the physical and mental benefits of the sport towards an individual I must also confess that there is nothing hindering his health in relations to his sport… though the same cannot be said about his obsession, of which I'm realizing I'm harping on about a bit too much.

Before I finish up, I should mention that my patient happens to have a free period, so while I'm writing all this down he is peacefully sleeping opposite me. I hope he's sleeping, at any rate, but the problem is that he had nowhere to go to have some sort of rest, and I wasn't hard-hearted enough to make him walk all the way to the infirmary to take his desired nap so I let him stay here. I'm sure he's too busy dreaming to be reading my writing, but just to be safe I've made sure to keep an eye on him at all times while I've been scrawling down my thoughts, and so far he hasn't stirred at all. From what I've observed he has an active life that demands some rest, so before I kick him out of here I should probably mention that he needs to adjust his sleeping hours so he doesn't need to take a rest during the day, like what he's doing now.

Well, it's nearly time for the bell to ring, and my bus should be coming in about ten minutes, so it's about time I wrap things up, send my patient back to class, and head on home. I'm pleased to say that I don't feel as annoyed as I did about two hours ago, but I'm quite certain I'll need something to help me calm down tonight. Actually, I might visit my blogging site and attempt to find out the handle of that troublesome Kise kid, but until then I guess that's all from me for now. Sadly, I've got an appointment later tomorrow, so I won't have a break like I was supposed to have at Seirin, but I guess I can be happy with what I have for now. After all, I'm not dead from stress, so that's supposed to be a good thing… isn't it?

* * *

_**A/N: **I've probably butchered Moriyama in this, but it was fun trying to think like a ladies' man and then exaggerating those qualities, I suppose. Anyhow, just on a random note, I'm getting tonnes of work so I might end up updating this at a lesser frequency, but I'll still attempt to update weekly, and if not then at least fortnightly. Otherwise... well... that's it for now, I think. I hope that everyone liked this chapter~_


	14. Hayakawa Mitsuhiro

_**A/N: **Those who are acquainted with Hayakawa will realize that he has a rather... awkward... speech impediment that causes him to talk with his l's and r's switched around. I've incorporated this into the chapter, but in the case that people get confused by his speaking problem I've placed a translation at the bottom. Please do tell me if it interferes with the story too much, but otherwise enjoy the chapter~_

* * *

**Patient Eight: Hayakawa Mitsuhiro**

I finally remembered the reason behind my previous attempts at abstinence from alcoholic substances- I know, this is a very random comment to begin my documentation of my next bout of sports counselling attempts, but bear with me for a time being. There are not many people who appreciate the distinctly strong taste of liquor or its equally distinct smell, and I am one of the few who deign to conform my likings to something hated by so many I know. The reason I had tried to quit in recent times was due to its adverse effects on my health, but thanks to my anxious week, I've returned to regular alcohol consumption… which has impacted rather heavily on my sleeping patterns and my general mood.

This is basically why I decided to start off my journal entry with a comment on the detrimental effects alcohol has on the general wellbeing of a human. If I was a little less hard-headed and a little more prone to my own words of wisdom, then I wouldn't have started off my day in one of the worst moods I'd ever experienced in my life, but such is the way of the world and such is my life. I have often iterated that my life is one full of regrets and plagued with recurring bouts of bad luck, but this meeting pretty much confirmed the pessimistic view I've held on my life so far. Of course, there might've been other factors that contributed to my general lack of wellbeing, other than my ready consumption of strong doses of liquor, but I have neither the time nor energy to pursue that train of thought right now.

Before I expire on the table and either doze off or succumb to the irrational depression sneaking up on me, I better get on with what I have to say about my latest patient. To put things simply, my day may not have been so bad, had it not been for the unfortunate disposition of the basketball player I had interviewed not too long ago. Perhaps I am falling to the depths of those people who choose to blame others for events of their own doing, but I am sure that I was not the one entirely at fault here; after all, I controlled myself as best as my frayed nerves would let me, before my mental self decided to interfere and make mine- and by extension, that boy's- life generally miserable for the duration of our meeting. I'm sure that the appointment was not as bad as I make it to be, and hindsight will render this experience as an amusing memory more than anything else, but let me start on my retelling before I become sidetracked by other, more random recollections…

* * *

_I cannot recall how much I had to drink the night before and there is a persistent buzzing in my ear, and usually those two indicate that I've binged a little too excessively on the dwindling stock of liquor I've stored in my house. I was fortunate enough to have the morning off to recuperate, but even though the afternoon is well and truly here, my disorientation is startling and my present demeanour is enough to frighten the few that take notice of me. I guess I should stick to my resolve to give up alcohol a little more stubbornly then._

_When I finally make my way to the small room assigned to me at Kaijou High, I am not amused to see that someone is already seated in the room… and that the person is sitting in my seat. The smaller male clearly doesn't seem to notice my presence in the room, thanks to the handheld device that's commanding all his attention, and despite my increasingly obvious efforts to get him to realize that he is _not_ supposed to be where he is he remains oblivious to me. However, before I allow my mental self to take over and flip him off my seat, he jumps off the chair with an incoherent shout and throws his game onto the (thankfully carpeted) floor and exclaims:_

"_Dammit, and I was nea(lr)y about to defeat him once and for a(rr)!"  
[Dammit, and I was nearly about to defeat him once and for all!]_

_Just as my mental self had decided that carting off the intruder would be better than ramming him through the wall, he suddenly seemed to notice my presence. With yet another exclamation, he rudely pointed a finger at my form and loudly yelled:_

"_A(l)gh, I _knew_ someone was sta(l)ing at me! Why cou(r)dn't you have (r)eft me a(r)one in this (l)oom, huh?!"  
[Argh, I _knew_ someone was staring at me! Why couldn't you have left me alone in this room, huh?!]_

* * *

I had previously become acquainted with the usual scant details that I have been recommended to read, and as normal I've come to realize that the people who've made preliminary records of their basketballers are clearly inadequate at the job. There was nothing about his aggressive nature- though, to be fair, there was a small point where the writer had noted down his 'straightforward tendencies to express himself'- or anything about a potential speaking problem, but I guess, from first impressions of this individual, I've seemed to found quite a few things to write about this person. If I were to write down a report on this individual at the exact moment I was 'acquainted' with his odd nature I would have nothing to write on his psychology in terms of basketball, but I would have plenty to write if it was about his general mental wellbeing. Perhaps, if I fail this course, I might just become a shrink (or, in more professional terms, a psychological counsellor) instead.

As I have mentioned before, my general disposition before the appointment had commenced was that of passive annoyance at the world, but there was something about this excitable figure that had subtly shifted my impassive feelings into something a little more… hostile. Generally speaking, I tend to distance myself from the few in the world that are polar opposites of me in terms of personality, so I have a very rudimentary grasp of dealing with the unfortunate few that are purely action-driven and not contemplative souls like myself. Now that I think about it, there was someone at Seirin who was also prone to action rather than thought, but his aggressiveness was much more muted than this individual's, which may explain why I was able to handle him better than the other.

In any case, it would be quite correct to say that my first impression of this Hayakawa Mitsuhiro was not a particularly good one- not that I've really received many good impressions of people lately. If I were an optimistic person then I might've been able to console myself with something about how everything would be fine and it couldn't possibly get worse, but being a world-weary individual I was sure that something more could go wrong with the situation at hand. Sadly, my pessimistic thoughts came true and, sure enough, I found myself in a situation which was much worse than I thought. Before I can describe it, though, I must stress a very important event that occurred…

* * *

_As an eternity flew by and the second hand of my office's clock agonizingly counted the seconds that'd actually passed, the baleful glare of my next patient bore a figurative hole into my passive gaze in his direction. Silence lay in a thick coat on both of our beings, and just as I felt that the deafening lack of noise was becoming too much for me to handle, the taller male before me broke it. With a rather loud intake of breath and an angry exhale, he grumpily barked at my inert form:_

"_Is this (l)oom going to be used for a (r)esson or something? I thought it was a f(l)ee (l)oom fo(l) me to spend my time befo(l)e I had to go that sh(l)ink I'm supposed to see…"  
[Is this room going to be used for a lesson or something? I thought it was a free room for me to spend my time before I had to go to that shrink I'm supposed to see...]_

_Perhaps it was my confusion at his horrible pronunciation or my generally frayed temper, but whatever the reason was, I became unusually incensed at his lack of respect towards me- not that anyone has really showed me any lately- and his impression of the meeting he was supposed to have with me. It could've been my mental self finally letting loose, or it could've just been the gradual build-up of grievances in my life, but instead of acting in my usual apathetic manner I decided to succumb to the temptations nagging my mind, and blow off some steam while I was at it. With a distinctly icy tone that caused the male opposite me to shiver involuntarily, I quietly enunciated:_

"_This is my office, so unless you either broke into this room or the janitor had somehow opened it, then there should be no students in here. I have a meeting with somebody here in about ten minutes, but it seems as if they do not wish to remain here so this room might just be free later on. Of course, until the time has passed I shall be sitting in my seat and awaiting the individual by the name of Hayakawa Mitsuhiro, so we can discuss notions that pertain to _sports_ counselling, but until then feel free to either leave, or stay with me. Really, it's all up to you…"_

_With my chillingly scathing comments complete, I stalked to my unoccupied seat and placed my bad underneath the table, before I sat down and completely ignored the presence quaking beside me. By the time I had set up everything and managed to calm myself down, the other male, who I assumed was my patient, had recovered his electronic device from the ground and was in the process of slinking to his proper seat opposite me…_

* * *

This must've been the first time in a long time that I've lost my temper; the last time I can clearly remember myself being bothered enough to rouse myself to cold anger was about five years ago, when a group of people decided that making fun of my ambiguously gendered name would be entertaining. I suppose the person did not really deserve the treatment that I gave him, but in my defence I was tired and short-tempered enough to willingly surface from my apathy, and he was a complete nuisance that would've been hard for even my usual self to deal with. There was no indication of the turbulent meeting to come, though it was obvious that as two completely different individuals we would not get along particularly well, but I suppose there are things that even seers cannot predict- after all, there are some things in life that will forever remain a mystery at times.

With that being said, my inauspicious appointment stayed rather uninteresting and platonic for the most part; he gave the occasional glare in my direction when he thought I wasn't looking, and meekly answered whatever questions I deigned to ask him when I was staring directly at him. As things progressed, I was rather confused at the lack of resistance he put up once I began to conduct a pseudo-civilized conversation with the basketball player, and many other (potentially minor) details nagged at my mind the more I spoke to him. Granted, it was nice how he answered my questions without the aggression from earlier, but it was strange to see him have such a placid attitude, especially after I had seen his highly aggressive side.

There are some instances in life where questioning a certain lack of chaos in the world usually results in the formation of such chaos, and in this particular occasion that was exactly what had happened. Just as the question of his peaceful nature had come to mind, I asked a question that managed to fire him up in a way that didn't emulate the time when I'd first met him, but in a way it was more intense and a little more disturbing than the first time around. The question had something to do with his reasons for playing basketball and the scenario, at the very least, was slightly insane…

* * *

_His health was fairly average and everything seemed to be in order, but for some odd reason I had refrained from asking the most important questions of all- how his basketball affected his physical and mental health in the way that they did. Dutifully recording the answer he'd given to me mere second ago, I gave a quiet sigh and glanced disinterestedly to the paper in front of me, before I asked in a highly emotionless tone:_

"_Why did you choose basketball as your sport, when any other sport might've been just as fine?"_

_The change in him was instantaneous and quite frightening; instead of appearing as a sadly deflated being with a bare hint of energy showing in him, he was a seething mass of pure energy. If I wasn't the lazy and apathetic person that I was, I might've physically recoiled and perhaps even cowered underneath something large- like my mental self was doing- but being the person that I was I chose to frown slightly when his open palms violently collided with my table, to the point where a slight indent appeared when he lifted his hands again. Before I could reprimand him for his part in damaging my property, he leant his face in close to mine and spat out:_

"_Basketba(rr) is a spo(l)t that I t(l)ained ha(l)d to do we(rr) in! The(l)e are some things that (l)equi(l)e no ta(r)ent at a(rr), but basketba(rr) is something that (l)equi(l)es g(l)eat pe(l)seve(l)ance and g(l)eat ta(r)ent to get into! How _da(l)e _you speak about my spo(l)t with such a bo(l)ed ai(l)?!"  
[Basketball is a sport that I trained hard to do well in! There are some things that require no talent at all, but basketball is something that requires great perseverance and great talent to get into! How _dare_ you speak about my sport with such a bored air?!]_

_With a vein throbbing rather visibly in his forehead, the basketballer continued his rant, neither pausing for breath nor offering me an opportunity to interrupt his incomprehensible spiel…_

* * *

It was probably my fault for inflaming him in such a manner, but in my defence I had not known that he would be so easily offended by the mere tone of my voice. There had been nothing about his lack of temper or his highly aggressive nature when roused from the pathetic placidity I had witnessed beforehand, but I guess that is something else that I can write about him. Needless to say, it was clearly impossible for me to continue along the vein I had been so eager to bypass altogether, and to cut a long story short I should mention that nothing else happened in the meeting. All that occurred afterwards were my feeble attempts to stop his angry tirade, and the headache-inducing yelling that followed each and every one of my failed attempts.

No more questions about his affiliation with basketball were asked by me- for that matter, no more questions were asked- due to his inability to allow me to speak during his long-lasting bursts of rage-induced ranting. He did not cease until, much to my relief, he was forcibly removed from my office in a most curious manner…

* * *

_My bus had already left the bus stop, if the clock behind my patient was anything to go by, and still the other was busy shouting his undying commitment to basketball at me. One would think that he would've calmed down by now, but despite my best efforts to placate him, all I received from my efforts were more angry words and a whole lot of saliva on my table. At the rate that things were going, my table would need to be thoroughly cleaned before anyone could use it again. At least I had the foresight to remove my notes from the table at the beginning of his blustering._

_The words he shouted faded in and out of my mind, and by the time I tuned into his words I had no idea of what he was talking about. All I could pick up were the occasionally slurred words and a few angry gestures, before he drew in a breath and continued on:_

"…_when my captain hea(l)s of you(l) inso(r)ence I'm going to offe(l) myse(r)f as a candidate fo(l) you(l) executione(l), because I'm quite su(l)e that even someone (r)ike _him_ wou(r)d be offended by you-"  
[…when my captain hears of your insolence I'm going to offer myself as a candidate for your executioner, because I'm quite sure that even someone like _him_ would be offended by you-]_

"_And how, exactly, will I be offended by this so-called grievance of yours…?"_

_At the unfamiliar tone, the rampaging male in front of me magically shrunk in size; adopting a less angry form, but an angry form nonetheless, he spun around and glared at the new arrival, the male standing at the slightly ajar door. With a furious growl, he advanced to the other and made to speak once more, but before he could do a thing the other swung his fist straight into the other's throbbing head. Without another word, the angry male toppled over into the unknown man's arms, and was presently dragged off to wherever he was supposed to go…_

* * *

If I ever see that male again, I think I might break out of my emotionless state to pour out a torrent of gratitude towards him- that is, if I ever managed to see him again. At the time, though, I was more fixated on my unexpected chance at freedom, and without another thought for my unwitting saviour I quickly finished my business and then fled back to the safe confines of my house. Of course, now that I am able to look back on the situation, I should've gone and thanked the other straight away, but I have a feeling that he already knows of my relief in the freeing of my situation. I don't have distinct emotions and I must admit that a normal person would find it hard to find any sort of emotion in me, but even a normal person can admit that anyone would be annoyed in my situation.

In any case, I have to conclude that the appointment was the worst I've ever been in; hopefully, it will be the worst my meetings ever get, and everything will only be uphill from here on. My attempts at consoling myself are feeble, that in itself is quite obvious, but I would like to continue wishing for some sort of salvation in my internship. There is a rather loud voice in my head furiously demanding that I hightail it out of my pseudo-job, but there is a smaller and more stubborn voice that is urging me to stay and show my lecturers that I cannot be easily pushed around.

I know I will regret this decision later on- honestly speaking, I am completely certain of it- but for now, I wish to see this month through. Even if it means that my sanity disappears in the near future…


	15. Kasamatsu Yukio

**Patient Nine: Kasamatsu Yukio**

Coincidences are strange sorts of things; there are times when I fervently wish to forget someone's memory, but the instant I make that resolve they 'coincidentally' appear everywhere for me to see. In my experiences with events that the common person would term as 'fate', these so-called quirks are normally anything but desired- take my involvement with that Kuroko kid, for example- but there are times when there is something that I want, and it randomly appears. Strangely enough, the next appointment I had could most possibly be termed as 'providence', because though I knew nothing of the person except for scant details of their life and basketball, the person turned out to be someone I'd wanted to meet since yesterday.

I clearly recall writing something about wanting to thank my benefactor during my last appointment, and though I had a feeling I would never meet him again my feelings proved to be wrong… as they often appear to be. Granted, it was obvious that he had something to do with basketball and that he was most probably superior to that Hayakawa brat, but I hadn't really thought I would see him again. Don't blame me for being pessimistic, because my inherent nature is to assume the worst out of life, but there are times where even a little optimism manages to get into my life and I guess this was the moment for it to occur. That doesn't mean I believe any more or any less in the power of so-called coincidences, though. It simply meant that my day proceeded a little better than I'd thought it would.

However, for me to say that I'd thought the day went swimmingly would be a bit of a lie, especially when I was all too ready to turn from my office when I first proceeded towards the semi-detached room that I'd been assigned at Kaijou High. I'm quite sure that there's a problem with the lock which I may call the school's janitor to fix in the near future, but before I go off on a rant regarding the insecurities involved with my temporary room, I will digress about another topic; namely, that of how I met my latest patient…

* * *

"_Kasamatsu-senpaiiii~!"_

_The half-empty Styrofoam cup I had in my hand nearly drops straight out of my palm the moment I hear that voice. Last time, it had been those whiny chords that had brought along a crazed tirade of female students, and I'd rather not have a repeat of that incident, which may be why I began to turn away from the partially-ajar door that leads to my room. The fact that it is ajar is lost on me for the time being, especially when I hear a repetition of the childish voice of that basketballer-model, but it is impossible to ignore it when it is right next to my ear._

_Somehow, as my back had turned to face the door, the wooden object had flown open without warning and, unfortunately for me, the back of my shirt is caught in the handle and I plummet backside-first into my temporary office. I barely have time to register that there are two rather familiar faces hovering over my downed form before a searing heat shoots pain through my mind, and with an undignified yelp I begin to claw at the substance burning my lower face. While the blonde male to my left begins laughing at my predicament, the raven-haired male on my right swats the former rather harshly on the head, before he rushes off to somewhere out of my line of sight._

_I soon find out where he's gone; within moments of his departure, I feel a tissue flat gently onto my face, and without further delay I wipe off the searing mess that used to be my coffee. While I am thus engaged in my task, I faintly hear a rather curt and displeased tone sound somewhere above me:_

"_Look, Kise, you can't stay and sit with me in my appointment, because it's private and I'd rather you not. You've got classes in a few minutes, and as much as I _love_ having you miss basketball training for detention, I don't. Now, just stop being a bother and go already, before I force you out myself"_

_At this point in time, I was finally rid of the stains previously spilt over my face, and I had sat up enough to figure out that the smaller male was making the taller one… cower slightly. Before I could speculate on this for long, though, the model hurriedly yelps an apology- probably at his captain more than me- and barrels out the door. As the door slams shut somewhere in front of me, I find myself seated rather awkwardly on the floor, with a rather stern-looking figure standing above me…_

* * *

I should probably make a note to myself to never wear loose shirts to work ever again, especially since I don't exactly want a repeat of what'd happened earlier in the day. While I'm on that note, I might as well mentally remind myself to never drink coffee, especially if it's in an unlidded cup, and perhaps I should just quit my job, since it's rather prone to making my life miserable. There's a pretty high probability that I will do none of what I've just written down here, but I guess it doesn't hurt to rant; after all, ranting can't exactly rewind past events, but it certainly makes one feel a little more relieved when they've vented about all their woes. Being me, though, I would probably end up boring whichever unfortunate listener has to stand my venting, and developing a sore throat at the end as well… so I should definitely stop digressing and get on with things.

The report on Kaijou's basketball captain had fleetingly mentioned that he was 'straightforward and determined' but I had never thought that his straightforward nature would border on blunt, and that his determination was a little too close to a success-at-all-costs mentality. If his curt words to the model were anything to go by, then he could probably be classed as a mild sort of bully- which is strange, considering that he was being forceful for the other's own good. Now that I think about it, he was also forcefully aiding me earlier when he dragged that raving kid from my office the other day, so perhaps he is just the sort of person that speaks more with semi-violent actions than with civil words. In any case, I suppose he means well, so for the time being I guess he's a good sort of kid- that is, if one disregarded his lack of passivity.

I would be a complete dispenser of nonsense if I were to say that I wasn't intimidated by this Kasamatsu person; in my defence ,though, any normal person would feel like how I did if they were sprawled on the floor and someone was towering over them. It would also be quite the tall tale if I were to then mention that I regained all sense of dignity by alighting from the floor and carrying on with the composure that I was used to having, but I must say that, in light of the circumstances I was in, I managed to begin the appointment with the better part of my pride intact. The fact that the other was helpful was also useful too, I suppose…

* * *

_Luckily (or unluckily) for me, the coffee only found its way onto my face and my hands, so when I was done wiping the scalding liquid from the affected parts of my body I was, for all intents and purposes, as fine as I was before I'd entered the room a minute or so ago. However, this didn't leave me in a position that was any better; now, instead of minding the blisteringly hot coffee on my exposed features, I was now all too aware of my need to get up off the floor and apologize for myself._

_Instead of finding a hole to burrow into, as my mental self was currently doing in the confines of my mind, I found myself taking the hand of the taller male standing above me, and with less difficulty than I thought I was back to standing on my feet again. With a silent nod of the head to him- because bowing took too much effort as it was- I quietly mumbled:_

"_Thank you-"_

"_If your thanks to me was for the past two times, then you're better off saving it; Hayakawa needed to get to his training so I was doing my team a favour, and Kise was the one that yanked the door open and then somehow made you fall, so it wasn't your fault. Let's start the appointment now, because the more time we spend loitering the more time is wasted, and the less spare time I have left to practice"_

_Without further ado, he strides to his designated chair and firmly sits down, before he silently waits for me to follow his actions and sit in my designated seat. Suppressing the sigh that threatens to well out of my tired mind, I place my bag in its usual position behind the desk and ease into my chair…_

* * *

This person's inherent bluntness is quite obvious, and there is certainly no doubt about the fact that he is also rather single-minded when it comes to basketball, just like all the other basketballers I've had the general misfortune of meeting. Then again, I suppose that, as the captain, he has to set an example with his nature and dedication to his sport, so I can't really fault him for his enthusiasm regarding it. There are clear lines that blur the boundary between enthusiasm and one-tracked ambition, though, and sadly enough I cannot really discern which of the two this male possessed at the time of my appointment with him, but I suppose that is irrelevant for the purposes of this journal, especially when this is not merely about my speculations regarding his life.

If it wasn't for my misgivings concerning his general wellbeing, I would actually term the Kaijou Captain as somebody that is a little more balanced than the other patients I've met so far. From what I deduced through my initial interactions with the male prior to our proper introduction during the meeting, it is quite clear that the other is a responsible person who generally acts in a slightly hasty- but largely considerate- manner. Whether this is an effect from his years of discipline in basketball remained to be seen during my appointment with him, and whether he developed it out of his own initiative was also a question fit for contention and examination. To make a long story short, I'd have to say that, based on first impressions, he strikes me as the type of person that I wished I would've become, were it not for my innate sense of laziness and apathy.

Of course, as a pessimistic person that is excellent at pointing out almost-non-existent flaws in other people, I found myself spotting the shortcomings of this person as soon as I'd met him, but for reasons mostly unknown to my current self I did not spot as many faults as I thought I would. Apart from the obvious violent tendencies that he has and the curt manner in which he speaks his mind, he also had a rather stern expression that was potentially intimidating to the average person; sadly, being the emotionless person I am, I merely found his expression pinched, and nothing more. He also had a rather irritating habit of cutting me off mid-sentence, due to his ability to deduce my meaning before I had conveyed it fully, and though my words were few and far between it still irked me to have someone interrupt me in the scant instances I was bothered to talk.

In any case, I should move on before I begin to prattle at length about his mannerisms and the problems I see in his life; there are times that I feel myself acting more like a shrink than a sports counsellor and I guess this is one of those moments, so forgive me for digressing at length. From my actual position as a sports counsellor I must admit that his athletic life balances well with his academic life, unlike some patients I've had access to, and that sporting in general seems to have a generally positive impact on the broader aspects of his life. He does have a few issues that I can link back to the negative effects of sport, but on the whole he is fine, I guess.

There is one issue that bothers me a lot, though, and it is the odd closeness I seemed to sense between him and that blonde model in his basketball team. I faintly recall, from the Hayakawa incident yesterday, a shock of yellow flying past my door a few seconds after the basketball captain had left my room, and I also hold vague memories of a singularly loud voice that most possibly belonged to my latest patient amidst the screaming horde that had pursued that Kise kid two days ago. It had nothing to do with the questions I was supposed to ask him, but I suppose I was curious; perhaps, like that Seirin duo, these two were very _close_ friends.

I guess that's why I asked the questions that I did, then. Drat my curiosity…

* * *

_I couldn't help but notice the topic, and how it always magically shifted to the blonde 'Generation of Miracles' member in his team every time I asked something about his basketball-related life. There is a small possibility that he may just be the captain of an incredibly boring team and that the only person worth talking about is the model, but I know for a fact that this is not true; after all, the two patients between my first and last basketballer at Kaijou High were also interesting characters in their own right. If I had been approached with such an interesting subject two weeks ago, before I started this blasted internship, I may have passed up the opportunity to examine him further in favour of finishing early and going home to have a nap._

_Unfortunately, I feel my curiosity grow stronger than my apathy, and even as my mental self bounces frenziedly in my mind and harasses me for an answer to my question, my physical self obliges and asks in the most disinterested voice I can muster:_

"_You seem to harbour a particular interest in your Ace player… why would that be?"_

_I had expected him to fly into a rage, or brush my question aside with a curt comment and a stern glint of the eye, but I had definitely not expected the almost-guilty sidelong glance that I received as my silent (and only) answer. The faint dust of pink over the other's cheeks is both amusing and intriguing at the same time, and though I am a little irritated by the odd affection I seem to be seeing everywhere these days, I can't help but feel a sense of warmth at the other's reactions. I think I accidentally smiled while revelling in the unexpected overflow of emotion inside of me, because in an instant the captain's expression snapped to an embarrassed look, and he quickly hisses:_

"_This has nothing to do with the appointment, does it? In that case, does that mean the meeting is over, and that my hour is done with you? I have basketball training to attend, if you'll excuse me…"_

_Leaving me to smile almost imperceptibly to myself, he kicks his chair back and jumps to his feet, before he storms out of my office with an uncharacteristically defeatist attitude. In the silence that envelops the room, I sigh slightly to myself and chuckle faintly at the other's odd reaction to my words; his expression had been the strangest thing I'd seen in ages and perhaps that was why I found myself in such an amused state…_

* * *

It is only now, while I write this down, that I realize I never really got a proper verbal response to my question; then again, I don't think I'll need it, since his facial expression was a revealing enough response. I had never pegged him as the type of person to be completely flustered by blunt questions- since he was a blunt person himself, I'd thought that he would be used to responding to such things- but then again, I'm generally a bad judge of other's characteristics.

I suppose I'm lucky that I had to foresight to ask all the important questions first and then leave my curiosity to later, because if he had stormed out earlier then I might've had to fabricate some results. This probably isn't the best place to say this, seeing as the comments I make in this college journal may impact on my ability to graduate from this course, but at this moment in time I don't really care if I fail anymore. Perhaps it is the degradation of my apathetic nature or the inevitable change that I'm feeling in response to meeting so many people, but I find that my job is entertaining, and at the moment I guess it's enough to make me feel satisfied.

There is a good chance that there will be people just like the crazier individuals I've had the bad luck of meeting, and I don't doubt, for a second, the certainty of my continued misery, but at the moment the pessimistic outlook I had when I left Seirin had been all but eradicated by the generally amusing time I've had at Kaijou. I could probably ramble on at length about my expectations for the next school, but I don't think I will. After all, this is my last scheduled appointment and for once I haven't been roped into anything, so I can safely clear out my room and enjoy the unexpected long weekend I now seem to be entitled to…


	16. (T) Kaijou High

**Second Training Session: Kaijou High**

As a general rule I find myself double-checking areas to make sure that I don't leave anything behind, but for the first time in a long time- probably because I was fed up with everything and I was eager to get home- I had forgotten something back at my office when I returned home late last night. This was not just any old thing that I could forgo, though; unfortunately for me, the documents I had left behind in my temporary office were those pertaining to the patients I had seen, and it would defeat the purpose of me working hard on them if I just left it there. Sure, I could always leave them behind and re-do another set from my notes, but the most important thing is that someone could stumble upon them by accident, and my comments may somehow be passed onto the patients I had seen. I do not leave sugar-coated opinions about the people I have met, and there is a high possibility of someone becoming excessively offended by my words… and I do not have enough money to defend against some random 'defamation' claim, especially if it's from the model/basketballer kid.

Instead of having a relaxing long weekend that started today, as I had hoped yesterday, I rouse myself out of bed early so I can catch an earlier bus, but due to my lazy nature I manage to catch a bus that is barely earlier than my usual bus to Kaijou High. Luckily, there are no students from that school, much less the basketball players that I've had the general misfortune of analysing, so my trip to the school was mainly uneventful. For the first time in my life, I actually manage to get to my office and grab the documents without a single hitch, but my exceedingly good fortune fails me when I pass a room and, out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a figure I would rather _not _see. There are many people that fit that criterion of being on my 'I-never-want-to-see-them-again' list, but the Hayakawa brat is pretty high on that list… and he just happens to be the figure that notices me at the same time that I notice him.

Since my stamina is not what it once was when I was a cross-country runner and my energy levels are particularly low, it doesn't take me very long to be overtaken by the rampaging male that steadily advances on my puffing form. My mental self has practically wet his pants by now, and even my physical form is rather inclined to releasing a whimper of despair at the steely- and perhaps slightly irrational- anger in the other's eyes, but before I can debase myself by following my mind's actions the taller male grabs me by the collar and drags me off to goodness-knows-where, while muttering rather unintelligibly under his breath:

"I swea(l), if Kasamatsu's p(l)ediction had been w(l)ong and I hadn't spotted this stupid sh(l)ink, I might've been (r)u(l)king a(l)ound fo(l) the (l)est of the day…"  
[I swear, if Kasamatsu's prediction had been wrong and I hadn't spotted this stupid shrink, I might've been lurking around for the rest of the day…]

The problem of where I'm forcibly being kidnapped to soon clears up when the rather imposing figure of the gymnasium rises before my eyes, and just as I gain a faint inkling of what is going on I'm rudely thrown through the open doors to land rather resoundingly on my rear. Gritting my teeth, partly in annoyance at the roughness of the muttering male and partly in pain at the harsh stinging sensation in my behind, I clamber to my feet and find the rest of the training basketballers staring impassively at my downed form. It is with a sense of slight discomfort that I realize I'm standing on the court in which they're practicing whatever they're practicing, so with a quiet apology I step backwards, only to bump into a rather stout individual that appears to have been passing by.

Generally speaking, I often have a good perception of the space around me, but there are times- like when I am excessively uneasy- that I tend to forget about my surroundings, which normally ends in my accidental collision with various beings and objects. This is just one of these instances, in which I find myself inconveniencing someone else, so I try to apologize and leave the gymnasium as soon as possible, but before I am able to beat a hasty retreat, the elder male raises his arm and lays a meaty hand on my shoulder, before he asks:

"Are you the visiting sports counsellor that consulted four of my basketballers?"

Honestly speaking, I'm not sure what this man's intent is by asking such a question; is he displeased that I've done such a thing and wants to give me a piece of his mind, or is he merely curious and asking to satisfy his own curiosity on this matter? Sadly, being the apathetic person that I am, I don't bother to ask these questions and open my mouth to reply, but before I can even hope to get a word out of my mouth he pats me rather heavily on the shoulder and continues on speaking:

"I'm not sure what you did to them, but you've done a splendid job making them feel better about themselves in basketball, it seems! As the coach of our high-achieving basketball team, I must thank you for increasing the sheer willpower in their systems and for lending us your expertise"

I had never factored in the possibility that this man might be the coach, but I should've known that the man wouldn't just be walking around the gymnasium for kicks, especially when he also has a whistle dangling around his neck. Mentally berating myself for being less observant than usual, I extricate myself from the rather uncomfortable hold on my shoulder and shake his hand instead, before we engage in conversation centered around my psychoanalysis of- or rather, my efforts to psychoanalyse- the four characters I've had to look at over the past week. Despite the fact that he does not look as much of an imposing figure as the fierce coach of Seirin's basketball team, he strikes me as a person that carries the same sort of steely determination that the Kasamatsu kid carries, and it impresses me that everyone on the Kaijou team seems to have a strong sense of willpower- that is, if I discounted the female-loving individual in their team.

The grating squeak of basketball shoes and the deep echo of various bouncing basketballs flows by unnoticed as I continue to discuss basketball-related matters with the coach, and though I know precious little about basketball and being a sports counsellor I manage to hold a decent conversation with the man. I am not much of a conversationalist to begin with, and I am sure that he, too, is not much of a conversationalist either, but by some miraculous stroke of luck there are not many awkward periods of silence that punctuate our mundane discussion and the times in which I feel like I want to be curled up at home are few and far between. In actual fact, the information he gives about his basketballers will be very helpful when it comes to revising my reports on the individuals I've had appointments with for the week, and so I find myself beginning to appreciate the odd chat we seem to be having.

I say 'beginning to appreciate' and not 'appreciate'… because I never truly finished the talk I had with the Kaijou High coach.

* * *

The interruption comes in the form of squealing girls, and just as I realize that the squealing is just a little too close for comfort I find myself being flattened by a horde of fangirls for the second time in a week. The coach is probably used to such things, because I saw him sidestep just as the doors burst open, but this thought reaches me upon retrospect, when I'm not having uncaring females tread upon my body and squashing my organs. Since I am partially deafened by the commotion on top of my being and my face is pressed rather uncomfortably into the floor, I find myself lying in my prostate position on the hard wooden surface before someone mercifully comes to the rescue.

"…after training, okay?"

That was the cheery snippet of an exclamation I think I hear, before my body is magically relieved from the agonizing pressure that had been resting on me a mere moment ago. I begin to stand up with a sigh of relief and a thankful comment floating to my lips, but instead of being able to thank my benefactor with a civil comment, I find myself being tackled to the floor. Although it is a tearful hug that forces me to the ground, rather than a stampeding crowd of females, I don't find my situation any better, especially when I realize that it is the blonde model that is snivelling all over my shirt. Not only is the article in question clinging rather uncomfortably to my torso, the flustered male is sobbing rather unintelligibly into my previously-abused shoulder while blubbering:

"A-A-Are y-you okay, M-M-M-Mr C-Counsellor?"

With great difficulty I manage to stand up, but no matter how hard I struggle I cannot pry the clingy male off my soaked shirt. Just as I am about to give up and resort to some sort of violent endeavour to get him off myself, a basketball flies a little too close to my face for comfort, but somehow it manages to knock off the parasitic human hanging tightly onto me. As I bend down to see whether the welt on the model's face is of a permanent nature- and whether he's even _alive_ after such a powerful hit to the head- the captain prevents me from tending to the injured male with a dismissive:

"The airhead will be fine after a few minutes; just let him rest for a bit, and he'll be bouncing around in no time. Besides, he's sturdy enough to hold off insane basketball players, so a small hit to the head will do nothing to impair him in any way. After all, his mind is already impaired…"

Although I don't really believe that the blonde will be fine from his violent path into temporary unconsciousness, I don't question the captain's words- because, obviously, they're closer and thus they would have a better idea of each other's capabilities- and so I leave the unmoving male as he is. I have a faint feeling that those passionate fangirls of the Ace player would probably be in hysterics, but since they're not here I feel comfortable in leaving the male as he is in his untended position on the floorboards. However, before I can leave the crazy basketball players to their training and beat a hasty retreat back home, I am prevented from leaving for the umpteenth time when a rather angry shout assaults my eardrums:

"Hey, whe(l)e do you think you'(l)e going in such a hu(ll)y, huh?!"  
[Hey, where do you think you're going in such a hurry, huh?!]

Instead of conducting the stealthy escape that I had hoped for, I found myself unable to escape, thanks to the rather angry male towering over my guilty form. Once again, I had a hand at my collar and my legs were rendered useless by the raging Power Forward dragging me onto the court, and just as I felt my windpipe become ready to collapse on itself, I was mercifully dumped onto the ground- this time in a minutely gentler manner than before. Just as I began to recollect the remnants of dignity I seemed to have left and attempt to come up with a way to deal with the mongrel being hulking above me, another basketball flies towards his head and without another word he drops to the ground, as senseless as the last person to be knocked out in such a manner.

Just as I convince myself of the notion that my morning could not possibly get any worse than it is right now, the coach helps me to my feet and states in an overly-casual tone of voice (which manages to undermine the negative gravity of his words for me):

"Please forgive the conduct of our highly-strung members; they were promised a one-on-one match with you if they performed the best in our morning training session…"

It turns out that, rather than being able to leave the school with my documents in five minutes, I was now under the obligation to play an _exhibition match_ with somebody. Not only was I caught by surprise from this horrible realization, I had not trained my failing muscles for a long while and I was sure of my instant defeat. I had already established that I could not play basketball to the Seirin people, and I had naively thought that, perhaps, they would have the common sense to report this to their friends in other schools and thus leave me with my life- though not perhaps with my evidently-lacking sense of dignity- but of course, I was wrong.

There was no way I could see myself excusing my way out of this one-on-one game, so I did the only thing a cowardly slob like me could do. Simply put… I turned tail and _ran_ for it.

Under normal circumstances I could not beat an elementary student in short-distance running, but there are times when my adrenaline kicks in and I'm able to run at speeds that I could only dream of. This just happens to be one of the times when my body obeys my frantic orders, and with a small granule of triumph, as well as a massive amount of relief, I find myself able to escape the few basketballers that seem intent on torturing me for their selfish curiosity. When I was younger in life I once was expert in the art of free-running as well as cross-country- which, now that I think about it, are two completely differing disciplines that one does not expect to be able to master- and this aids me in my escape as I vault through open windows and speed over the imposing gates of the school I am desperately attempting to leave.

Strangely enough, my luck holds out long enough for me to catch the bus with everything I want and need intact, including the documents I returned for in the first place, and I manage to give a casual farewell to the furious Hayakawa kid as the bus drives away. Just as I begin to wonder as to why I could only see one person chasing after me, and not the duo I had initially viewed, a chill runs down my spine as a cheery voice chirps beside me:

"Mr Counsellor, you sure are a great runner~!"

I don't need to turn around to recognize the blonde model's distinctive voice, and it turns out that I didn't need to turn around at all when a small metallic object is slid into my half-open hand. As I glance down at the object and identify it as some sort of black cassette tape, the voice casually explains its purpose as he adds:

"All we wanted to do was to play a game with you and give you our evaluations, but you ran away too fast for Kasamatsu-senpai, or anyone else, to tell you that… well, since I _really_ want to verse you one day, I'll come visit you and request that game some other time. In the meantime, please watch our evaluations… and I hope you have a great day~"

The next few moments are blurry and indistinct, but I gained the impression of a sharp gust of wind lancing past my inert form. By the time I snap my head in the direction of the disturbance, the agile Small Forward has already leapt out of the window and vaulted over the tall wall the bus is currently passing by. Strangely enough, his movements heavily remind me of my own endeavours to escape from him beforehand, but I cast the troubling thought aside as the bus rolls on. After all, he couldn't possibly have mastered the moves that took me forever to master… right?

In any case, Ryouta Kise isn't my primary concern anymore.  
Not while the cassette tape imprints itself onto my hand…

* * *

_**A/N: **I'd set my word limit at an initially low for this, but somehow it exploded until it nearly cracked the 3000-word barrier... Anyhow, wordiness levels aside, I'm sorry if this seems a little rushed, but I've been recovering from a stomach bug and I only felt well enough to write this about 12 hours ago, hence why some bits may feel off or sound weird. I'll probably come back to this and edit it over if I find it unsatisfactory, but until then... thank you, readers, for the 2000+ views for my fledgling fanfic, and I hope that this chapter was enjoyable to read~!_


	17. (E) Kaijou High- I

**Second Evaluation, Part One: Kaijou High**

One would think that, in a technological age, people would be fine with taking digital videos with something more sophisticated than an archaic camcorder and use something other than a cassette tape, but perhaps nobody is bothered to do such things, because in the past two schools I've been to, all I've received for my evaluations are… cassette tapes. There are smartphones that are capable of having a higher resolution than cameras, and there are cameras that have a higher resolution than camcorders, and yet these basketballers only bother to use these things for me. I know I sound rather snobbish by complaining about such an insignificant problem, but I don't like using my tape recorder to watch these things, and I can't be bothered digging around for the remote every single time static crackles over the speakers. I mean, come on, can't they show a little more respect for an adult, even if they don't know them well enough to care all that much?!

The main problem doesn't lie in my pedantic concerns, though; even if the video was some sort of state-of-the-art holograph with stunning visuals, it wouldn't change the fact that this was something that contained people's opinions of me. As much as I don't care about the outside world, I happen to place slight value on my public image and my pride, and from the experience I received at the first school I went to I don't think these people will have that positive an opinion of me. Even though I must admit that I am pessimistic, that does not mean that I like to strengthen my negative viewpoint of the world by indulging in self-debilitating activities. In any case, talking about the video is starting to depress me more than the potential contents of the video itself, so I suppose I should stop my self-pitying wallowing and get back to stuffing this cassette tape into my ancient tape recorder.

Although it takes an astoundingly large amount of energy to shove the tape in and get it to work without static appearing on my television screen, I cannot be bothered to release any more anger at the inanimate object due to the weariness in my mind and body so, instead of getting some sort of alcoholic beverage to drown my sorrows in, I flop into my position on the couch and stare at the remote in my hands. If I really wanted to, I could either leave the tape to a later date or not watch it at all, but the persistent nagging of my conscience- which has somehow managed to survive my constant attempts to ignore it for the past few years- is starting to get to me, and although I do not want to admit that its snide words are true, I cannot help but feel that it has a point. Even if they actually say negative comments and batter the almost non-existent entity that constitutes my pride, and even if I manage to convince myself that this unlikely possibility is the truth, I cannot deny the effort that the basketballers would've gone through to make such a tape.

However, the main reason I watch this isn't because I recognise my efforts, or even because of the persistent efforts of my conscience to make me give a damn; I only bother to press the 'play' button because my job requires me to do this… nothing more. I do not watch this to resolve the all-too-human emotions tumbling about inside of me, like my curiosity or apprehension, and I do not watch it because I want to heed the words of the blonde model. I sit through the static and resolve to keep a clear head through the viewing purely to pass my internship and not have to face going back to college to take on some other convoluted course that I'm sure to fail anyway.

Well, that's what I'd like to believe as I watch the static resolve into images…

* * *

_The locker room for Kaijou High bears a startling similarity to Seirin High's one, but that's probably because every locker room is pretty much the same to begin with. There are practically no discernible differences, unless individual cracks on the ceiling/floor and the presence of a discarded basketball uniform on an unoccupied bench counts, and it startles me to come to the conclusion that I have come to. I do not have long to speculate over my insignificant discoveries, though; with a rather loud noise, a figure flies into the frame and lands in a strange heap in the centre of the room._

_After a minute or so of crying and whimpering, the childish blonde picks himself off the floor and begins to dust himself off, before he spies the camera and immediately brightens up, almost as if he hadn't been over-exaggerating his injuries beforehand. He skips to the seat that he seems to spy out of the corner of his eye, and promptly launches into a tirade of chatter even as he takes his seat:_

"_Ah, ojii-san, it was really fun talking to you, especially when you allowed me to tell you about my dear friend Kurokocchi~ You really should stand side-by-side and look at yourself, because you guys are just _so_ similar! By the way, I'm really psyched for the one-on-one that I'm sure we're going to have, but you'll probably see this afterwards so… well, anyhow, I seriously can't wait to see what you say about me on your blog. I really, _really_ want to see what you say, so then I can see what you think of me. You don't hate me, do you? It would be horrible if you did-"_

_His rambling stops abruptly when a shoe flies out of the air and snaps his head forward upon impact. As more tears form in his eyes and a sniffle emits from his nose, a faint- yet somehow discernible- voice comes from somewhere off-screen, and from the reaction the male is showing it is obvious that he is being reprimanded for his lengthy digression. By the time he manages to right himself and get back to what he's supposed to be saying, all traces of his supposed misery are gone again. While I ponder over his abilities to fake sadness, the blonde model rambles on again:_

"_Sorry for not talking about my evaluation earlier; I really meant to, but the thought of talking to you was just too exciting! Well, what can I really say? You're approachable and you don't make me feel uncomfortable, other than the fact that you remind me a little too much of Kurokocchi in your apathy, but you do a good job~ I can't really say anything else, and I think Kasamatsu-sempai wants me to leave before I take up all the space on this tape, so I'll just say thanks for everything and leave now. Have a good weekend, Mr Counsellor~!"  
_

_Miraculously dodging the round projectile that flew dangerously near his head- which, suspiciously enough, looked like the basketball he'd been hit with at the time I'd gone to see their training session- as he jumps to his feet, the Small Forward darts forward to someplace behind the recording device, before his figure appears a few seconds later. Soon enough, when he moves to exit the room, the camcorder is left to display an empty room, and once again silence reigns in the locker area…_

* * *

If I haven't mentioned that I think this kid is insane, then I've got to make it clear that I think _this kid is insane_. Perhaps 'insane' is a bit of a strong word, but there is definitely something clearly wrong with this person's mentality. Not only have I never met a person who acts as childishly as he does, I don't think I'll ever be able to understand what most people see in him- he may appear to others as highly attractive, but there cannot be people superficial enough to adore him! While I make this mental exclamation, I should clarify my perspective and mention that this only applies to the people that are near him… but now that I think about it, I don't think I've seen any of his team-mates express a reciprocating tone of friendliness to him. Then again, I've never seen him with anyone except for the angry person with a speech problem and his semi-abusive captain, so I'm not really in any position to judge him.

Aside from my generally unamused discourse at this individual and my obvious disdain towards him, I should mention that I am touched by the fact that he thought I was good at my job. I can't discount the fact that he could just be overly optimistic and thus see anyone as approachable, but despite this, I still gain a sense of contentment from his words. Although this feeling doesn't last very long- after all, comments from a supposed airhead do not cheer up a cynical bastard like me all that effectively- it lasts long enough for me to reconsider writing his report in a completely negative light. As far as I'm professionally concerned, his life is balanced and his sport keeps him in tune with what he wants, so I can't really say fairer than that.

When I had first learnt of the so-called 'Generation of Miracles', I had thought of them as they were portrayed to be; with their detached facades and their impressive records on the basketball court, I had imagined them to be a typical bunch of professional athletes. Unfortunately, the first person that had fit this particular 'clique' was as far removed from this image as I had never imagined them to be, and my encounter with Ryouta Kise demonstrated the extent to which I had been misled. There must be some sort of motivation for the media to draw such misconceptions about them and express them in such a misleading manner, but for the time being I do not care to know about it. This doesn't concern my general wellbeing or my job, so such speculation is useless.

In any case, the length of time in which the room continues to stay empty is strangely long, and it is no surprise to me when I find myself yawning rather widely and sinking into the overstuffed cushions of my seat. Sadly, before sleep could overcome my weary form, a few particularly loud screams jolt me from my useless reveries and return my focus to the still image on the screen…

* * *

_The locker room is unchanged, just as it has been for the past few minutes; the lockers stay resolutely locked, the benches stay untouched, and the floor does not emit any squeaks from the scuffing of shoes on it. However, this all changes when the door flies open somewhere nearby and screams make themselves known on the speakers, and the peace is broken beyond salvation when a figure tumbles into the frame of the camera. To call this figure dazed would be the understatement of the century- the look in his eyes gives the impression that absolutely nobody is at home- but his slack-jawed expression does not stay that way for long, thanks to the bottle that whistles a little too close to his nose. He starts in shock and falls onto the chair placed directly in front of the recording device, and takes a few moments to steady himself before he shakes himself out of his daze:_

"_It seems that I'm supposed to make an evaluation on you for our meeting together, but just so you know, I was in the middle of comforting Kise's fangirls when I was dragged into this room… Ah, if only Kasamatsu would realize that healthy males like me need contact with females every now and again… Well, I'll keep this short so I can go talk to those girls again. When I first met you, I was _really_ disappointed with fact that you weren't a woman-"_

_In a scene that closely echoed the one before, the male's head roughly snaps forward from the impact of a shoe, and with an abrupt end to his female-orientated discourse, his face slams rather harshly onto the floor below. However, within a few minutes of lying on the concrete surface, he struggles to his feet and manages to make his way back to the chair, before he continues on with his evaluation in a slightly more subdued tone:_

"_Aside from the fact that you weren't the beautiful woman I thought you were, you were actually better than I'd expected you to be. For one, you didn't laugh at me when I said that I wanted to play basketball for the alluring females and for another, you were pretty good for a guy. I seriously meant what I said when I mentioned you would make an ideal girlfriend, so if you have any relatives my age, please introduce me to them~ I would do anything to have a girl like you, I really would!"_

_Getting off his chair to stand up, no doubt to add emphasis to his words, the boy straightens up… and is promptly hit by the angry fist of his basketball captain. With a few muttered words that sound suspiciously like expletives, the aforementioned male drags away his downed companion with a particularly sour face, and the violent slam of the off-screen locker door echoes in the emptiness that reclaims the room once more…_

* * *

Apart from stating the obvious and mentioning that Moriyama is a little _too_ obsessed with women for his mental wellbeing to accommodate, I have to admit that his fervour for the female gender is quite admirable indeed. There are rarely any people that I know- out of the very few people I know, that is- which contain any sort of extraordinary enthusiasm to anything much in life, so for a stoic person like myself to witness such passion is quite eye-opening. This doesn't necessarily mean that I'll make positive comments on his report, because there is definitely something amiss with his mentality in terms of his motivations for playing basketball, but it does mean that I have a little more respect for him than I did before… not that I had much for him to begin with.

Moving on from his single-mindedness, the evaluation that he gave me really doesn't comment much on my overall ability as a sports counsellor, but it does give me a little more insight into his character. Of course, this would actually be highly relevant to me if I were a psychological counsellor, rather than a sports-oriented one, but nonetheless the information he subconsciously reveals gives me a little more to add to his report other than 'he loves to please women'. Strictly speaking, though, the general impression I received from his life in relations to sport is quite scarce, so that may turn out to be a problem later on.

Speaking of problems, though, there is a rather distinct rumbling that I've been hearing over the past few minutes, and despite it taking me a while to figure out its source, I finally realized that the noise is emitting from my stomach. Rather than indulge in my laziness and continue sitting on the couch for some long period of time, I'd rather get up and eat food before my digestive system turns on itself, so I guess I'll have to pause the video for the time being and indulge in my bodily needs. Although I know I shouldn't procrastinate on my duties, nourishment beckons to me and its call is much more appealing than that of the television's. In due time, I will resume it, but for now it's time for me to go foraging for food…

* * *

_**A/N: **Sadly, I could not squeeze everyone's evaluations into this chapter, so Hayakawa's and Kasamatsu's will be in the following chapter. Unfortunately, the next chapter will most probably be uploaded a fortnight from now, thanks to my self-imposed hiatus (starting from Monday 19th and ending on Tuesday 3rd) due to the demands of studying and exams, but I will do my best to try upload it before this time. Well, if I don't upload it in time, please know that I will upload it as soon as humanly possible- without failing my yearly tests- and that I will try write up more chapters to compensate for this short-term hiatus. Well, thank you for reading this chapter and the announcement, and please do look forward to the next chapter~  
_


End file.
